LIBRARY    j 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


15780 


MEMOIRS    OF 
EMMA,     LADY    HAMIJ 

The    Friend    of    L»rd    Nelsi* 


With   a   Special  Introduction 
and    Illustrations 


NEW    YORK 

P    F    COLLIER    & 

PUBLISHER  t 


ADMIRAL    NELSON 

DANCING   WITH    LADY    HAMILTON 

AT    THE    ENGLISH    EMBASSY,    NAPLES 


From  the  painting  by  H.  O.  Olindoni 


MEMOIRS    OF 
EMMA,     LADY    HAMILTON 

The    Friend    of    Lord    Nelson 
AND   THE    COURT  OF    NAPLES 


With   a    Special  Introduction 
and    Illustrations 


NEW     YORK 

P    F    C  O  LLI  ER    &    SON 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright  1910 
BY  P.  F.  COLLIER  &  SON 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

INTRODUCTION .        .      5 

I.  THE  CURTAIN  RISES:   1765-1782          .        .  .     13 

II.  THE  "FAIR  TEA-MAKER  OF  EDGWARE  Row":  1782-1784    37 

III.  "WHAT  GOD,  AND  GREVILLE,  PLEASES":  To  March  1786    60 

IV.  APPRENTICESHIP  AND  MARRIAGE:  1787-1791  .        .        .81 
V.  TILL  THE  FIRST  MEETING:  1791-1793  ....  124 

VI.  "STATESWOMAN"  :    1794-1797 157 

VII.  TRIUMPH  :    1798 191 

VIII.  FLIGHT:  December  1798 — January  1799       .         .         .  231 

IX.  TRIUMPH  ONCE  MORE:  To  August   1799  .        .        .  252 

X.  HOMEWARD  BOUND:  To  December  1800      .        .        .  305 

XL  FROM  PICCADILLY  TO  "PARADISE"  MERTON  :  1801  .        .  335 

XII.  EXIT  "NESTOR":  January  1802 — May  1803  .        .        .  380 

XIII.  PENELOPE  AND  ULYSSES:  June  1803 — January  1806     .  402 

XIV.  THE  IMPORTUNATE  WIDOW  IN  LIQUIDATION:  February 

1806— July   1814 .433 

XV.  FROM  DEBT  TO  DEATH  :  July  1814 — January  1815  .        .  465 


Memoirs — Vol.  14 — 1 


INTRODUCTION 

"AMONG  the  lovely  faces  that  haunt  history  none, 
surely,  is  lovelier  than  that  of  Emily  Lyon,  who 
abides  undying  as  Emma,  Lady  Hamilton.  Yet  it 
was  never  the  mere  radiance  of  rare  beauty  that  en- 
titled her  to  such  an  empire  over  the  hearts  and  wills 
of  several  remarkable  men  and  of  one  unique  genius, 
or  which  empowered  a  girl  humbly  bred  and  basely 
situated  to  assist  in  moulding  events  that  changed  the 
current  of  affairs.  She  owned  grace  and  charm  as 
well  as  triumphant  beauty;  while  to  these  she  added 
a  masculine  mind,  a  native  force  and  sparkle ;  a  singu- 
lar faculty,  moreover,  of  rendering  and  revealing  the 
thoughts  and  feelings  of  others,  that  lent  an  especial 
glamour  to  both  beauty  and  charm." 

Walter  Sichel  thus  strikes  the  keynote  to  the  re- 
markable life-story  here  presented — a  story  which 
transcends  the  bounds  of  romance  and  fascinates  and 
baffles  the  reader  by  turns.  Indeed,  no  two  critics  of 
this  famous  beauty  and  confidante  of  Lord  Nelson 
have  ever  agreed  as  to  her  place  in  history.  To  one 
she  is  an  adventuress,  luring  Nelson  on  by  the  sheer 
power  of  her  physical  charm;  to  another,  she  is  his 
guiding  star,  his  inspiration;  while  others  see  in  her 
merely  an  astute  politician,  eager  for  power.  To 
quote  Mr.  Sichel  again : 

"It  will  be  found  that  Lady  Hamilton,  by  turns  ful- 
somely  flattered  and  ungenerously  condemned,  was  a 
picturesque  power  and  a  real  influence.  She  owned 

5 


6  INTRODUCTION 

a  fine  side  to  her  puzzling  character.  She  was  never 
mercenary,  often  self-abandoning,  and  at  times  actu- 
ally noble.  Her  courage,  warm-heartedness  and  gift 
of  staunch  friendship,  her  strength  in  conquering,  her 
speed  in  assimilating  circumstances,  the  firmness  mixed 
with  her  frailty,  were  conspicuous;  and  it  was  the 
blend  of  these  that,  together  with  her  genuine  grit, 
appealed  so  irresistibly  to  Nelson.  She  must  be 
largely  judged  by  her  capabilities.  Her  faults  were 
greatly  those  of  her  antecedents  and  environment. 
She  rose  suddenly  to  situations  and  fulfilled  them, 
while  these  again  led  her  both  to  climax  and  catas- 
trophe. She  worked  long  and  hard,  and  with  suc- 
cess; she  took  a  strong  line  and  pursued  it.  She  be- 
came a  serious  politician  in  correspondence  with  most 
of  the  leaders  in  the  European  death-grapple  with 
Jacobinism.  So  far,  as  has  been  represented,  from 
having  proved  the  mere  tool  of  an  ambitious  queen, 
it  will  appear  that  more  than  once  she  swayed  that 
beset  and  ill-starred  woman  into  decision.  So  far 
from  having  craftily  angled  for  Nelson's  love,  it  will 
be  shown  that  the  magnet  of  her  enthusiasm  first  at- 
tracted his.  She  was  indeed  singularly  capable  of 
feeling  enthusiasm,  and  of  communicating  and  en- 
kindling it.  It  is  as  an  enthusiast  that  she  must 
rank." 

"The  story  of  her  wonderfully  checkered  career 
from  her  cradle  to  her  grave,"  writes  W.  H.  Long  in 
an  earlier  edition  of  her  Memoirs,  "and  her  connection 
with  the  greatest  naval  commander  the  world  has  ever 
seen,  is  as  attractive  and  thrilling  as  a  romance,  and 
will  serve  for  all  time  'to  point  a  moral  or  adorn  a 
tale.' "  We  find  in  these  pages  the  life  history  of  a 
girl  of  obscure  but  honest  parentage  beginning  her 
career  as  a  household  servant,  then  practically  cast 
adrift  in  the  streets  seeking  a  precarious  living  in 


INTRODUCTION  7 

doubtful  ways;  thence  rising  from  the  very  edge  of 
circumstance  by  successive  stages  to  become  the  in- 
spiration of  artists  and  Bohemians,  the  protegee  of 
ministers,  the  wife  of  an  ambassador,  the  trusted  con- 
fidante of  a  queen.,  and  the  all-absorbing  passion  of  a 
nation's  hero.  Rapid  as  this  ascent  to  power  was,  the 
descent  was  no  less  swift,  and  the  poverty  which  ac- 
companied her  early  years  again  greets  her  at  the  end 
of  the  journey.  The  bare  outline  of  such  a  career 
exhibits  its  remarkable  contrasts  of  light  and  shadow. 
We  can  only  explain  it  in  part  by  a  study  of  the 
woman  herself — the  same  woman  who,  as  an  un- 
tutored girl  of  nineteen,  sighed :  "If  I  only  had  a  good 
education,  what  a  woman  I  might  have  been!" 

Lady  Hamilton  rose  to  power  not  merely  through 
beauty  of  face — many  other  women  have  been  thus 
endowed — but  through  a  combination  of  rare  qualities 
which  astounded  such  critics  as  Goethe,  Sir  Horace 
Walpole,  the  artists  Romney  and  Madame  Le  Brun, 
and  men  and  women  in  every  walk  of  life.  These 
qualities  were  a  naturally  fine  mind,  a  magnetic  per- 
sonality, an  overflowing  sympathy  and  generosity, 
and  a  boundless  enthusiasm.  One  may  also  character- 
ize her  as  naturally  theatrical.  She  did  not  pose,  she 
was  the  living  personification  of  the  emotions  she 
typified;  and  this  natural  adaptiveness  became  in- 
tensified by  the  scenes  into  which  the  untutored  girl 
was  so  suddenly  cast. 

And  what  a  theatre  it  was !  England,  just  recover- 
ing from  the  American  War  of  Independence,  was 
facing  a  conflict  with  France.  The  latter  country  had 
emerged  from  the  throes  of  Revolution  only  to  plunge 
into  a  Titanic  struggle  with  every  other  European 
nation.  Napoleon  marched  through  Italy,  overran 
Egypt  and  swept  the  Mediterranean  with  his  ships, 
preparatory  to  wider  conquests.  The  Mediterranean 


8  INTRODUCTION 

thus  became  a  seething  caldron,  and  in  its  very  centre 
the  kingdom  of  the  Two  Sicilies  struggled  for  exist- 
ence. It  was  at  Naples,  the  capital  of  this  kingdom, 
that  Emma,  Lady  Hamilton,  as  wife  of  the  English 
Ambassador  spent  the  momentous  years  of  her  life, 
and  here  her  peculiar  genius  found  full  scope.  She 
stirred  her  sluggish  ambassador  husband  to  action. 
She  became  the  real  power  behind  the  Sicilian  throne, 
through  the  friendship  of  Maria  Carolina  the  Queen 
(sister  of  the  ill-fated  Marie  Antoinette  of  France). 
And  when  the  fleet  of  Nelson  drew  near  in  pursuit  of 
the  French,  she  it  was  who  procured  water  and  provi- 
sion for  it,  enabling  Nelson  to  fight  and  win  his  fa- 
mous Battle  of  the  Nile.  Upon  the  return  of  the  victor 
began  his  remarkable  intimacy  with  both  the  Hamil- 
tons,  which  was  to  endure  through  the  lifetime  of 
each  and  all.  And  of  the  three,  the  chivalrous  atti- 
tude of  the  elderly  Sir  William  is  alone  meritorious. 
His  regard  for  his  wife  and  his  friend  never  wavered ; 
while  they,  carried  mutually  onward  by  a  wave  of  ir- 
resistible love,  forgot  the  one  his  wife,  the  other  her 
husband  in  the  liaison  so  widely  known  to  history. 

That  Lady  Hamilton's  influence  upon  Nelson  was 
permanent  and  paramount  is  never  disputed.  He  ideal- 
ized her  and  strove  to  live  up  to  the  fond  ideal  which 
he  cherished.  His  letters  constantly  attest  his  devotion, 
and  his  dying  message  confided  her  and  her  child  to 
the  care  of  his  country — a  charge  which  ungrateful 
England  wholly  neglected.  Nelson,  indeed,  always 
hoped  to  have  been  able  to  legalise  this  union  of  hearts. 
Emma  was  his  "wife  before  God,"  his  "pride  and  de- 
light." While  to  her,  Nelson  was  "the  dearest  husband 
of  her  heart,"  her  "hero  of  heroes,"  her  "idol."  They 
lived  for  each  other,  and  died  in  the  hope  that  they 
should  meet  again.  "Nelson's  unselfishness  trans- 
figured her  to  herself j  she  became  capable  of  great 


INTRODUCTION  9 

moments.  And  she  was  born  for  friendship.  'I  would 
not  be  a  lukewarm  friend  for  the  world,'  she  wrote 
to  him  at  the  outset;  'I  cannot  make  friendships  with 
all,  but  the  few  friends  I  have  I  would  die  for  them.' 
She  was  always  warm-hearted  to  a  fault,  as  will 
amply  appear  as  her  character  grows  up  in  these  pages. 
So  far  from  numbing  Nelson,  she  nerved  him;  nor. 
did  she  debase  any  within  the  range  of  her  influence." 
The  earliest  ''Memoirs  of  Lady  Hamilton"  ap- 
peared shortly  after  her  death,  in  1815,  from  the  pen 
of  an  anonymous  author,  and  were  published  by  H. 
Colburn,  London.  They  were  widely  read,  a  second 
enlarged  edition  appearing  a  few  months  later. 
Frequent  printings  were  made,  and  finally  W.  H. 
Long  brought  out  a  revised  edition  in  1891.  But 
other  and  more  authentic  memoir  material  meanwhile 
became  available — all  of  which  has  been  utilised  by 
the  present  editor.  The  first  of  these  sources  is  a 
volume  of  "Letters  of  Lord  Nelson  to  Lady  Hamil- 
ton," published  by  Thomas  Lovewell  &  Co.,  London, 
1814.  The  reader  of  the  present  book  will  note  how 
these  cherished  letters  were  stolen  from  Lady  Hamil- 
ton, while  she  was  ill  and  in  trouble,  and  how  she 
stoutly  denied  any  responsibility  for  their  publication. 
Nevertheless,  they  are  undoubtedly  genuine,  many  of 
the  originals  having  been  preserved,  and  they  furnish 
an  important  basis  for  these  Memoirs.  They  include 
letters  by  Lady  Hamilton,  her  husband,  Greville, 
Bristol,  but  chiefly  a  long  series  of  private  letters  from 
Nelson  himself.  The  editor  has  also  drawn  upon 
various  recent  manuscript  collections  in  the  British 
Museum,  such  as  the  correspondence  of  Lady  Hamil- 
ton with  Nelson  in  the  autumn  of  the  year  1798,  after 
the  Nile  Victory,  and  letters  between  Lady  Hamilton 
and  Mrs.  William  Nelson,  during  1801,  relative  to  the 
Prince  of  Wales  episode  which  created  such  a  scandal 


io  INTRODUCTION 

in  officialdom.  The  latter  collection  was  not  obtained 
by  the  Museum  until  1896,  and  has  therefore  not  been 
available  to  preceding  biographers.  Besides  the  above 
there  are  other  important  sources,  such  as  the  Nelson 
family  papers,  the  Acton-Hamilton  correspondence, 
the  manuscript  letters  of  Maria  Carolina,  Queen  of 
Naples,  in  the  British  Museum,  and  numerous  state 
documents  and  private  papers.  Mr.  Sichel  has  left 
no  bit  of  evidence  unturned,  basing  his  story  closely 
upon  contemporary  evidence,  with  the  result  that  he 
has  here  given  the  first  complete  and  accurate  pen 
portrait  of  Lady  Hamilton  which  has  yet  appeared. 

"It  is  a  career  of  widespread  interest  and  unusual 
fascination,"  he  finds,  "a  human  document  of  many 
problems  that  well  repay  the  decipherer  and  the  dis- 
coverer. My  aim  throughout  has  been  to  quicken 
research  into  life,  and  to  furnish  a  new  study  of  her 
striking  temperament  and  the  temperaments  which  be- 
came so  curiously  interwoven  both  with  each  other 
and  with  history.  I  venture  also  to  hope,"  he  adds, 
"that  Nelson's  own  character  and  achievements  stand 
more  fully  revealed  by  the  fresh  lights  and  side-lights 
which  serve  to  bring  his  extraordinary  individuality 
into  relief,  to  explain  his  policy,  and  to  clear  up  some 
vexed  passages  both  in  his  private  and  his  public  ac- 
tions." 

Whatever  sentence  the  reader  may  pronounce  on 
the  evidence  to  be  submitted,  he  cannot  fail  to  mark 
the  psychological  problems  of  her  being.  In  any  case, 
with  all  her  blots  and  failings,  Lady  Hamilton  presents 
one  of  the  most  fascinating  studies  in  the  eternal  duel 
of  sex.  To  her  may  well  be  applied  the  line  which 
her  husband  quoted  in  his  book  of  1772: — "The 
heroine  of  a  thousand  things." 


LETTER  FROM  LORD  NELSON  TO  LADY  HAMILTON 
[See   next  page,    also   pp.   197-199] 


NOTE   ON   NELSON'S   LETTER 
(Reproduced  on  foregoing  page) 

The  circumstances  calling  for  this  remarkable  letter 
are  given  in  full  in  Chapter  VII.  "Nelson  was  in  chase 
of  Buonaparte's  fleet,"  it  begins.  The  English  admiral's 
instructions  were  to  water  and  provide  his  fleet  in  any 
Mediterranean  port,  except  in  Sardinia,  if  necessary 
by  arms.  The  success  of  his  expedition  absolutely 
depended  upon  it.  The  various  ports,  however,  were 
so  dominated  by  Napoleon,  then  at  the  height  of  his 
power,  that  they  dared  not  welcome  the  English,  even 
if  willing. 

At  this  critical  juncture,  the  woman's  hand  suc- 
ceeded where  the  mailed  fist  might  have  failed.  Lady 
Hamilton's  husband  was  Ambassador  to  Naples,  and 
she  herself  exerted  a  vital  influence  in  affairs  of  that 
little  kingdom,  not  so  much  through  her  husband's 
position,  as  her  own  close  friendship  with  Queen  Caro- 
lina of  Naples.  She  obtained  secret  permission  from  the 
Queen  to  obtain  supplies  for  the  fleet,  in  a  personal 
note  so  jealously  guarded  that  when  it  is  forwarded 
to  Nelson,  Lady  Hamilton  entreats  him  to  "kiss  it,  and 
send  it  back  by  Bowen,  as  I  am  bound  not  to  give  any 
of  her  letters." 

_  The  overjoyed  Admiral  hastened  to  kiss  the  pre- 
cious missive;  his  ships  were  quickly  supplied;  and  not 
long  thereafter  the  news  that  the  French  fleet  had 
been  destroyed  in  the  Battle  of  the  Nile  thrilled  the 
world. 


EMMA,    LADY    HAMILTON 

CHAPTER  I 

THE   CURTAIN    RISES — 1765-1782 

ON  the  morning  of  January  10,  1782,  the  punctil- 
ious and  elegant  Honourable  Charles  Francis 
Greville,  gloomy  still  over  the  loss  of  his  War- 
wick election,  but  consoled  by  a  snug,  if  unsafe,  post 
in  the  Board  of  Admiralty,  much  exercised,  too,  in  his 
careful  way,  about  minerals,  animals,  science,  the  fine 
arts,  and  the  flickering  out  of  the  American  war,  was 
even  more  exercised  by  a  missive  from  a  poor  young 
girl  who  had  already  crossed  his  path.  Fronting  him 
in  the  dainty  chamber  of  his  mansion  in  the  new 
and  fashionable  Portman  Square,  hung  the  loaned 
"  Venus "  attributed  to  Correggio,  and  slightly  re- 
touched with  applied  water-colour.  This  over-prized 
picture  had  been  for  years  the  cherished  idol  of  his 
uncle  and  alter  ego,  Sir  William  Hamilton,  K.B.,  Fel- 
low of  the  Antiquarian  and  the  Royal  Societies,  mem- 
ber of  the  Dilettanti,  the  Tuesday,  and  other  clubs, 
foster-brother  of  the  now  George  III.,  and  sometime 
both  his  and  his  brother's  equerry;  the  busy  man  of 
pleasure,  the  renowned  naturalist  and  virtuoso  of  Port- 
land vase  celebrity,  and  already  for  about  eighteen 
years  His  Britannic  Majesty's  amiably-grumbling  Am- 
bassador at  the  Court  of  the  King  of  the  two  Sicilies. 
Greville's  natural  sangfroid  was  not  easily  ruffled,  but 
this  letter  almost  excited  him.  It  was  franked  by 

13 


14  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

himself  on  a  wrapper  in  his  own  neat  handwriting, 
bore  the  Chester  postmark,  and  contrasted  strongly 
with  the  tasteful  tone  of  the  room  and  its  superfine 
owner. 

It  ran  as  follows :  "  Yesterday  did  I  receve  your 
kind  letter.  It  put  me  in  some  spirits  for,  believe  me,  I 
am  allmost  distracktid.  I  have  never  hard  from  Sir 
H.,1  and  he  is  not  at  Lechster  now,  I  am  sure.  I  have 
wrote  7  letters,  and  no  anser.  What  shall  I  dow? 
Good  God  what  shall  I  dow.  ...  I  can't  come  to  toun 
for  want  of  mony.  I  have  not  a  farthing  to  bless  my 
self  with,  and  I  think  my  friends  looks  cooly  on  me. 
I  think  so.  O.  G.  what  shall  I  dow?  What  shall  I 
dow  ?  O  how  your  letter  affected  me  when  you  wished 
me  happiness.  O.  G.  that  I  was  in  your  posesion  or 
in  Sir  H.  what  a  happy  girl  would  I  have  been !  Girl 
indeed !  What  else  am  I  but  a  girl  in  distres — in  reall 
distres?  For  God's  sake,  G.  write  the  minet  you  get 
this,  and  only  tell  me  what  I  am  to  dow.  Direct  same 
whay.  I  am  allmos  mad.  O  for  God's  sake  tell  me 
what  is  to  become  on  me.  O  dear  Grevell,  write  to 
me.  Write  to  me.  G.  adue,  and  believe  [me]  yours 
for  ever  Emly  Hart. 

"  Don't  tel  my  mother  what  distres  I  am  in,  and 
dow  afford  me  some  comfort. 

"  My  age  was  got  out  of  the  Reggister,  and  I  now 
send  it  to  my  dear  Charles.  Once  more  adue,  O  you 
dear  friend." 

Who  was  this  girl  in  "  reall  distres,"  what  her  past  ? 
who  were  the  friends  who  looked  "  cooly  "  on  her,  and 
for  what  reasons?  These  questions  will  shortly  be 
answered  so  far  as  replies  admit  of  real  proof.  But 
first  a  brief  space  must  be  devoted  to  Greville  himself, 

1Sir  Harry  Fetherstonehaugh,  of  Up  Park,  Sussex,  who  lived, 
to  correspond  in  middle  age  with  her  in  terms  of  deferential 
friendship.  His  name  is  thus  spelt  in  his  letters. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  15 

since  his  individuality  is  as  necessary  to  the  coming 
plot  as  her  own. 

The  Honourable  Charles  Francis  Greville  was  now 
thirty-two. 

The  second  son  of  the  Right  Honourable  Francis, 
Earl  of  Brooke  (afterwards  Earl  of  Warwick),  and 
of  Elizabeth  Hamilton,  one  of  Sir  William's  sisters,  he 
was  born  at  Fulham  on  May  12,  1749,  and  baptised 
on  June  8  following.  He  was  born  prematurely  old, 
parsimoniously  extravagant,  and  cautiously  careless. 
His  cradle  should  have  been  garlanded  with  official 
minutes,  and  draped  with  collectors'  catalogues.  From 
his  earliest  days  he  was  prim,  methodical,  and 
pedantic  beyond  his  years.  The  unlikelihood  of  sur- 
viving his  eldest  brother  had  been  ever  before  his  eyes, 
and  he  was  set  on  the  emoluments  of  a  political  career, 
promising  much  to  one  so  highly  connected.  While 
still  in  his  teens  he  began  amassing  virtu  with  discern- 
ment, and  specimens  of  mineralogy  on  a  "  philo- 
sophical "  system.  Some  years  before  his  majority  he 
had  struck  up  a  brotherly  affection  with  his  free- 
hearted uncle,  nearly  twenty  years  his  senior,  who 
relied  on  a  precocious  judgment,  invaluable  to  one 
compelled  by  long  absences  to  entrust  to  others  the 
management  of  his  wife's  Pembrokeshire  property, 
indispensable  also  to  both  in  the  keen  pursuit  of  their 
common  tastes,  the  one  in  Italy,  the  home  of  art,  the 
other  in  England,  the  nursery  of  science.  From  a 
very  early  date  the  student  of  beauty  and  curios,  the 
investigator  of  shells,  marine  monsters,  and  volcanoes, 
"  Pliny  the  Elder,"  as  he  came  to  be  called,  was  al- 
ways exchanging  rarities  with  "  Pliny  the  Younger," 
or  commissioning  him  to  buy,  sell,  or  raffle  Dutch  and 
Italian  pictures,  Etruscan  urns,  Greek  torsos,  and  Ro- 
man vases. 

Hamilton  was  a  true  man  of  science,  and  a  really 


16  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

great  archaeologist.  When  he  first  came  to  Naples  in 
1764  he  spent  months  in  his  Villa  Angelica,  on  the 
slopes  of  Mount  Vesuvius,  taking  observations  and  ex- 
cavating antiquities.  He  was  far  less  a  trafficker  in 
objects  of  art  and  learning  than  his  nephew.  He  pre- 
sented both  books  and  specimens  of  value  to  the  British 
Museum.  His  aim,  in  his  own  words,  was  that  of 
"  employing  his  leisure  in  use  to  mankind."  Not 
quite  so,  however,  was  that  of  Pliny  the  Younger,  who 
in  his  turn  bought  crystals  and  works  of  art  with  equal 
zest  of  connoisseurship.  Greville  was  barely  twenty- 
one  when  he  went  the  Italian  tour,  stayed  with  his 
uncle  at  Naples,  then  in  the  full  fever  of  unearthing 
buried  chefs-d'oeuvre  at  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii, 
which  were  so  soon  to  experience  many  fresh  escapes 
from  re-destruction  by  earthquakes  and  eruptions. 
From  Rome,  in  this  year,  the  nephew  indited  two  of 
the  most  self-assured  letters  of  grave  gossip  and  coun- 
sel that  any  youngster  has  ever  addressed  to  one  nearly 
twice  his  age.  They  are  so  like  himself  that  a  small 
part  of  one  must  be  given :  "  I  begin  with  a  subject 
that  I  have  resolved  every  time  I  have  wrote  to  men- 
tion, and  now  particularly  I  am  under  an  obligation 
to  remember,  as  for  the  first  time  my  handkerchief 

1  Observations  on  Mount  Vesuvius,  etc.  (1772).  The  villa  was 
probably  called  after  the  artist.  Hamilton  constantly  ran  great 
danger  in  observing  and  recording  violent  eruptions.  He  was 
indefatigable  in  superintending  excavations,  and  he  mentions 
being  present  at  Pompeii  when  a  horse  with  jewelled  trappings 
and  its  rider  were  unearthed.  He  was  a  munificent  patron  alike 
of  discoverers,  travelers,  scientists,  and  artists,  including  Flax- 
man  and  Wedgwood.  He  was  a  trustee  of  the  British  Museum, 
and  a  vice-president  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries.  A  big  book 
on  his  Greek  and  Roman  antiquities  was  written  by  D'Harcau- 
ville  (Naples,  1765-1775;  Paris,  1787).  Besides  the  book  already 
mentioned,  supplemented  in  1779,  Hamilton  wrote  Campi 
Phlegrai  (Naples,  1776-77),  and  the  famous  work  on  Greek 
and  Etruscan  urns,  etc.,  illustrated  by  Bartolozzi.  A  Life 
worthy  of  him  ought  to  be  written. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  17 

has  been  knotted  on  the  occasion.  It  is  to  desire  you 
to  enquire  for  two  books  I  left  in  my  room  at  your 
house;  2  pocket  volumes  of  Milton's  works.  I  bor- 
rowed them,  and  left  them  with  an  intention  they 
should  be  sent  to  Mrs.  Harfrere  to  whom  they  be- 
long. .  .  .  The  ink  bottle  has  this  moment  oversett, 
but  you  see  I  am  not  disconcerted,  so  pray  don't  make 
observations,  and  the  letter  is  as  good  as  it  was.  Pray 
let  me  beg  you  to  avoid  every  mention  of  prices,  I 
have  done  so  once  before.  Pray  let  me  send  and  be 
favoured  with  the  acceptance  of  some  baubles.  .  .  . 
I  am  in  the  best  of  humours.  I  received  this  morning 
a  line  from  Lord  Exeter,  who  informed  me  of  the 
Douglas  cause  being  decided  in  his  favour.  ...  I 
am  running  about  the  antiquities  from  9  to  n  with 
Byres,  from  11-12  with  Miss  A.,  so  you  see  I  gain 
Horace's  happiness,  omne  tulit  punctum  qui  miscuit 
utile  dulci.  .  .  .  Pray  let  me  lay  on  you  a  dis- 
agreeable task,  choose  me  a  handsome  pattern  for  an 
applicee,  have  it  wrought  for  me  instantaneously,  and 
sent  to  Rome.  I  wish  an  Etrusc  vase  could  be  intro- 
duced. It  must  be  handsome  and  rich;  as  to  its  ele- 
gance, anything,  particularly  Etrusc,  conducted  by 
your  taste  cannot  fail  to  be  elegant.  If  a  contrivance 
could  be  hit  on  for  making  it  less  regular  and  straight, 
...  I  should  be  pleased.  Yours  is  charming,  but 
rather  too  much  like  a  lace.  .  .  .  The  spangles  must 
be  caution'd  against  and  well  fastened.  There  have 
been  some  fine  conversations  since  the  Emperor  has 
been  here.  The  Grand  Duke  asked  after  you  of  me. 
.  .  .  The  E.  has  lessened  the  talk  about  the  D. 
However  I  like  the  D.  best:  more  of  engaging  and 
gentlemanlike  deportment,  and  more  of  the  world. 
.  .  .  By  the  Bye  if  you  can  pick  up  any  vases,  of 
which  you  have  duplicates,  lay  them  aside  for  me,  and 
don't  buy  them  if  not  well  conserv'd  and  good;  nor 


i8  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

many  of  a  shape,  a  few  elegant  and  good.  Adieu  my 
dear  Hamilton." 

Certainly  Greville  proved  the  Horatian  mixer  of 
pleasure  with  profit;  and  since  he,  like  his  far  franker 
uncle,  was  ever  complaining  of  a  narrow  purse  tan- 
talised by  the  temptations  of  virtu,  that  other  trite 
Horatian  maxim,  Virtute  me  involve,  would  also  ad- 
mirably fit  them.  Wrapped  in  their  mantles  of  Virtu, 
they  both  bewailed  means  far  too  slender  for  their 
tastes.  The  richer  Sir  William,  indeed,  expending  in 
antiquities  what  he  retrenched  elsewhere,  seems  in  his 
correspondence  all  debt  and  Correggio;  while  Greville 
removed  to  his  mansion  under  pretext  of  its  size  be- 
ing a  bargain.  Each  sought  to  serve  the  other,  and 
Greville  in  his  youth  persistently  charged  his  uncle  to  be 
his  depute.  As  time  proceeded,  Sir  William  with  an 
ailing  wife  and  a  buried  daughter,  his  nephew  ever  on 
his  watch-tower  for  an  heiress,  confided  to  each  other 
their  little  gallantries,  and  peccadilloes  also.  As  for 
Greville,  just  as  in  the  case  of  the  "  applicee,"  "  con- 
trivances "  were  soon  "  hit  on  "  for  making  him  "  less 
regular  and  straight."  Already,  in  1781,  this  solemn 
frequenter  of  new  Almack's  had  acquired  the  Reyn- 
olds picture  of  "  Emily  in  the  character  of  Thais," 
which  had  been  left  on  Sir  Joshua's  hands.  His  char- 
acter was  that  of  a  free-living  formalist,  the  reverse  of 
austere,  but  with  all  austerity's  drawbacks. 

Yet  there  were  some  excellent  points  in  this  queer 
compound  of  the  Pharisee  and  the  Publican,  something 
between  a  Charles  and  a  Joseph  Surface.  If  none  was 
more  prone  to  sin  with  self -righteousness,  and  to  ex- 
cuse to  himself  half-shabbiness  as  unselfish  generosity, 
if  none  could  write  more  glibly  of  a  "  good  heart,"  he 
was  not  consciously  a  hypocrite ;  though  par  excellence 
the  man  of  taste  rather  than  the  man  of  feeling. 

He  displayed  scrupulous  honour  in  all  money  trans- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  19 

actions,  much  dignity  and  reticence,  with  grace  of 
demeanour  (if  not  always  of  behaviour)  ;  independence 
too  of  mind,  and  a  public-spirited  industry  that  often 
kept  him  sitting  on  important  committees  six  hours 
at  a  stretch.  He  was  a  steadfast  friend,  and  the  early 
death  of  his  Pylades,  the  brilliant  Charles  Cathcart, 
was  a  real  blow  to  him  and  an  irretrievable  loss.  He 
was  an  ideal  trustee.  He  could  say  with  truth,  "  I 
am  a  good  jobber  for  a  friend,  but  an  awkward  one 
for  myself."  He  was  worthy  of  his  uncle's  confidence, 
and  to  the  last  superintended  his  affairs  and  those 
of  others  with  integrity  and  tact.  Nor  did  he  neglect 
the  welfare  of  Hamilton's  tenants  at  Milford.  He  was 
capable  of  limited  disinterestedness  as  well  as  of  true 
patriotism.  His  father's  death  and  his  brother's  ac- 
cession to  estates  and  title  in  1773  reduced  his  allow- 
ance afresh,  and  all  his  resource  was  needed  to  repair 
the  deficiency. 

Socially  a  disciple  of  the  old-fashioned  Chesterfield, 
and  affecting  to  flout  the  opinion  of  a  world  that  he 
was  far  from  despising,  politically  he  was  a  trimming 
Whig,  but  an  unbending  supporter  of  all  authority 
and  establishment.  He  throve  on  coalitions,  and  la- 
mented with  reason  the  near  ing  end  of  that  coalition 
ministry  which  was  still  in  power  when  this  chapter 
opened. 

Such  is  an  epitome  of  the  man  who  still  holds  the 
soi-disant  "  Emily  Hart's  "  letter  in  his  hands.  It  is 
her  origin  and  past  that  now  demand  re-investigation. 
In  view  of  her  instinctive  independence  and  her  native 
appetite  for  glory,  the  notion  of  which  grew  with  her 
expanding  horizon,  these  trivial  beginnings  are  not 
unimportant,  while  some  of  her  cousins  played  a 
prominent  part  in  the  later  scenes  of  her  life. 

Emily  (or  "  Emy  ")  Lyon  was  born  on  April  26  in 
1765,  the  year  of  her  baptism,  unless,  without  reason, 


20  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

we  are  to  assume  her  illegitimacy.  The  Neston  parish 
registers  prove  the  marriage  of  her  parents  to  have 
taken  place  on  June  n,  1764.  The  rumours  and  fic- 
tions about  her  early  adventures,  seemingly  requiring 
a  longer  space  than  her  extreme  girlhood  affords,  have 
impelled  certain  biographers  to  antedate  her  birth  by 
so  much  as  four  years.  But  many  references,  both  in 
Greville's  letters  and  Hamilton's,  with  other  evidence 
outside  them,  entirely  tally  with  the  date  that  I  have 
assigned.  She  was  christened  "  Emily "  (of  which 
"  Emy  "  and  not  "  Amy,"  as  has  been  alleged,  is  the 
contraction),  though  from  the  "Emy"  she  may  in 
childhood  have  been  called  "  Amy "  at  times.  The 
copy  of  the  baptismal  register  sent  to  Greville  is  in- 
correct, as  will  be  seen  in  the  note  below.  Her  mar- 
riage register,  it  is  true,  is  signed  "  Amy  Lyons  "  ac- 
cording to  the  Marylebone  clerk's  information,  but 
this  again  seems  a  natural  misreading  of  her  rapid  and 
often  indistinct  handwriting  for  "  Emy  Lyon." 

Her  father  was  Henry  Lyon,  "  Smith  of  Nesse," 
and  her  mother  Mary  Kidd  of  Hawarden,  Flintshire. 
In  their  marriage  register  both  sign  by  marks,  al- 
though her  mother  soon  afterwards  became  "  a 
scholar."  Her  father  died,  it  is  said,  in  the  year  of 
her  birth;  but  there  is  no  vestige  of  her  mother's  re- 
marriage to  one  "  Doggan  "  or  "  Doggin,"  to  which 
has  been  attributed  her  after-name  of  Mrs.  Cadogan 
from  the  present  period  in  London  to  that  when  she 
became  "  La  Signora  Madre  deH'Ambasciatrice,"  and 
the  esteemed  friend  both  of  Hamilton  and  of  Nelson. 
'"  Emy  "  has  always  been  described  as  an  only  child, 
but  she  seems  to  have  had  a  brother  or  half -brother, 
"  Charles."  Thomas  Kidd,  an  old  salt  and  cousin, 
writing  from  Greenwich  in  1809,  to  thank  for  past  and 
beg  for  future  favours,  observes :  "  I  have  to  inform 
you  that  your  brother  Charles  is  in  Greenwich  College 


21 

and  has  been  here  since  the  6th  inst. ;"  but  I  can  find 
no  further  trace  of  this  "  brother,"  nor  is  there  any 
record  of  relatives  on  the  father's  side.1  This  Thomas 
Kidd  may  well  have  been  the  son  of  a  William  Kidd, 
"labourer,"  who,  as  "widower"  in  September,  1769, 
in  the  Ha  warden  registers,  married  one  "  Mary  Pova." 
And  William  Kidd  is  possibly  Lady  Hamilton's  cousin 
or  uncle,  who  was  at  one  time  a  publican,  and  who  used 
to  complain  that  he  was  "  never  brought  up  to  work." 
If  this  be  so,  something  of  the  paternal  strain  seems 
to  have  descended  to  the  son,  who,  in  the  letter  just 
mentioned,  excuses  his  remissness  in  calling,  as  re- 
quested, by  the  insinuating  remark  that  "  I  declare  my 
small  cloaths  are  scandolous,  and  my  hat  has  the  crown 
part  nearly  off  " ;  while  he  speaks  pointedly  of  the  at- 
tentions of  a  "  Mr.  Ingram,"  who  in  turn  refers  to  his 
"  justifiable  character  "  in  "  His  Majesty's  service," 
and  suggests  that,  since  both  the  porter  of  the  west  gate 
and  the  "  roasting  cook  "  of  the  college  are  infirm  and 
ill,  there  is  a  choice  of  probable  promotions  awaiting 
him.  In  after  years  it  was  not  only  her  humble  kins- 
folk, whom  she  never  forsook,  that  were  to  importune 
Emma  for  advancements. 

The  Kidds  were  mostly  sailors  or  labourers.  Lady 
Hamilton's  grandmother,  with  whom  in  girlhood  she 
often  stayed,  and  whom  she  always  cared  for  and  cher- 
ished, dwelt  in  one  of  some  thatched  cottages,  two  of 
which  still  remain.  That  Mary  Lyon,  nee  Kidd,  was  a 
superior  woman,  is  shown  by  her  after-acquirements. 
Tradition  associates  her  both  with  dressmaking  and 
with  domestic  service.  If  tradition  again  is  trust- 
worthy, she  may  have  been  cook  in  the  household  of 
Lord  Halifax,  who  is  also  reported  to  have  educated 
both  her  and  her  child.  But  Lady  Hamilton  herself, 

1  At  the  last  moment  I  have  been  informed  that  Emma  had  a 
sister  "  Anna." 


22  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

writing  to  Mr.  Bowen  of  Portman  Square  (and  of 
Merton?)  in  1802  about  Charlotte  Nelson's  education, 
declares  that  her  own  did  not  begin  till  she  was  seven- 
teen— that  is  to  say,  under  Greville's  auspices.  I  have 
read  none  of  her  mother's  letters  before  1800,  and  it 
is  not  improbable  that  mother  and  daughter  began  their 
education  together.  She  was  always  an  energetic 
housekeeper  and  a  most  resourceful  home-physician. 
Her  letters  to  Emma,  to  George  Rose,  and  others,  seem 
neither  ill-worded  nor  ill-spelt.  At  Naples  and  Pa- 
lermo we  shall  find  her  visited  by  the  Queen.  The 
King  of  Naples  was  in  the  December  of  1798  to  call 
her  an  "  angel "  for  her  services  during  the  hurricane 
attending  the  royal  escape  to  Palermo,  though  he  also, 
if  we  may  trust  the  Marchioness  of  Solari,  had  be- 
fore dubbed  her  "  Ruffiana."  The  Duke  of  Sussex 
highly  esteemed  her.  Nor  can  the  accomplished  Miss 
Cornelia  Knight  have  found  her  intolerable,  for  on 
the  return  of  Nelson,  the  Hamiltons,  and  herself  to 
London  after  the  ill-starred  continental  tour  of  1800, 
she  drove  straight  off  and  stayed  with  Mrs.  "  Cado- 
gan  "  at  the  hotel  in  St.  James's.  There  is  no  evidence 
as  to  how  this  homely  and  trustworthy  woman  came 
by  her  grand  name.  Doggin,  her  second  husband, 
however,  may  not  be  a  myth ;  although  the  Marchioness 
of  Solari  mentions  that  "  Codogan  "  was  the  name  by 
which  "  Emma's  reputed  mother  "  caused  her  to  be 
known  at  Naples  before  her  marriage ;  and  at  any  rate 
it  is  a  singular  coincidence  that  Earl  Nelson's  com- 
panion when  he  went  to  Calais  to  fetch  Horatia  away, 
after  Lady  Hamilton's  death  in  1815,  was  to  be  a 
Mr.  Henry  Cadogan,  a  relation  of  the  late  and  well- 
known  Mr.  Rothery. 

Only  two  sisters  of  Emma's  mother  are  generally 
mentioned.  Both  of  these  seem  also  to  have  risen 
above  their  station.  The  one  married  a  Mr.  John 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  23 

Moore,  afterwards,  it  would  seem,  successful  in  busi- 
ness at  Liverpool,  but  at  one  time  addressed  by  Emma 
at  the  house  of  a  Mr.  Potter  in  Harley  Street.  The 
other  was  a  Mrs.  Connor,  who  had  six  children,  all  of 
them  long  supported  by  Lady  Hamilton :  one  of  them, 
Sarah,  to  be  the  governess  both  at  Merton  and  Cran- 
wich,  was  well  educated;  another,  Cecilia,  became  an 
accomplished  singer,  and  also  a  (though  a  less  capable) 
preceptress.  Ann,  the  eldest,  and  Eliza  both  rose 
above  their  sphere,  though  they  proved  most  ungrate- 
ful ;  while  Charles,  who  entered  the  Navy  under  Nel- 
son's protection,  could  write  an  excellent  letter,  but  un- 
fortunately went  mad,  for,  as  Lady  Hamilton  recorded 
in  a  very  curious  statement  regarding  four  of  them, 
"  there  was  madness  in  the  family."  Ann's  showed 
itself  in  eventually  asserting  that  she  was  Lady  Ham- 
ilton's daughter,  for  which  there  is  no  evidence;  in- 
deed, to  her  must  be  traced  the  unfounded  rumour 
spread  by  the  chronique  scandaleuse  of  the  time  that 
Ann,  Eliza,  and  Charles  were  Greville's  three  chil- 
dren. Mary,  too,  was  to  be  popular,  and  with  all  her 
sisters  intimate  with  the  whole  Nelson  and  Hamil- 
ton family,  as  well  as  with  Sir  William  Hamilton's 
relations. 

Lady  Hamilton's  mother  had  also  a  third  sister, 
Ann,  who  married  "  Richard  Reynolds,  Whitesmith," 
in  1774.  The  Sarah  (misspelt  "Reynalds")  who 
finds  a  mention  as  grateful  to  her  titled  cousin  in  the 
Morrison  correspondence,  was  probably  his  daughter. 
She  may  further  have  had  another  brother  or  cousin, 
William,  an  entry  regarding  whom  and  his  wife  Mary 
finds  place  also  in  the  Hawarden  parish  books.  There 
were  the  "  Nicolls,"  whom,  just  before  her  own  bank- 
ruptcy, Emma  is  found  continuously  maintaining  with 
the  rest  of  her  connections.  And  finally  there  are 
traces  of  friends — of  her  Parkgate  landlady  in  1784, 


24 

Mrs.  Downward,  and  of  a  Mrs.  Ladmore  whom  she 
seems  to  have  known. 

When  we  remember  the  bright  and  intelligent  letters 
that  remain  of  this  Connor  family,  their  acquirements, 
and  the  way  in  which  they  were  treated  and  received, 
the  fairy-tale  of  Lady  Hamilton's  conquest  over  cir- 
cumstance seems  to  have  extended  also  to  her  rela- 
tions. 

Nothing  can  be  proved  of  Emma's  childhood  but 
that  it  was  passed  at  Hawarden  in  extreme  poverty, 
that  she  was  a  madcap,  and  that  she  blossomed  early 
and  fairly  into  stature  and  ripeness  beyond  her  age. 
At  sixteen  (or  perhaps  thirteen)  she  was  already  a 
grown  woman,  which  explains  the  puzzled  Greville's 
inquiry  for  the  register  of  her  baptism.  The  most 
ridiculous  romances  were  spread  during  her  lifetime 
and  after  it.  Hairbreadth  escapes  and  Family  Herald 
love-stories,  regardless  of  facts  or  dates,  adorn  the 
pages  of  a  novel  published  in  the  fifties,  and  pro- 
fessing to  be  circumstantial ; *  while  Alexandre  Dumas 
has  embroidered  his  Souvenirs  d'Une  Favorite  with 
all  the  wild  scandals  of  a  teeming  imagination.  The 
earliest  certainty  is  that  at  some  thirteen  years  of  age 
she  entered  the  service  of  Mr.  Thomas  of  Hawarden, 
the  father  of  a  London  physician,  and  brother-in-law 
of  the  famous  art  patron,  Alderman  Boydell  of  Lon- 
don. Miss  Thomas  was  the  first  to  sketch  Emma 
while  she  was  their  nurse-maid.  The  drawing  survives 
at  Hawarden,  and  the  Thomases  always  remained  her 
friends.  Whether  it  is  possible  that  the  roving  Rom- 
ney  may  have  seen  her  there  must  be  left  to  fancy.  It 
is  at  least  a  curious  fact  that  she  came  so  early  into 
indirect  touch  with  art.  The  loose  rumour  ascribing 
her  departure  from  Hawarden  to  the  severity  of  her 
first  master  or  mistress  is  entirely  without  foundation. 
1  Nelson's  Legacy. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  25 

A  far  more  probable  conjecture  is  that  she  left 
Hawarden  for  London  because  her  mother  left  also. 
It  seems  probable  from  the  letter  to  Greville,  already 
quoted,  as  well  as  from  Greville's  answer,  which  will 
soon  follow,  that  Mrs.  "  Cadogan  "  was  already  in 
some  London  situation  known  to  and  approved  of  by 
Greville. 

About  the  end,  then,  of  1779  or  the  beginning  of 
1780,  when  Emma  was  some  fifteen  years  of  age,  she 
repaired  with  her  mother  to  the  capital;  and  there 
seems  little  doubt  that  she  found  employment  with  Dr. 
Budd,  a  surgeon  of  repute,  at  Chatham  Place,  near  St. 
James's  Market.  A  comrade  with  her  in  this  service 
was  the  talented  and  refined  woman  afterwards  famed 
as  the  actress,  Jane  Powell,  who  is  not  to  be  confused 
with  the  older  Harriet  Powell,  eventually  Lady  Sea- 
forth.  When  Sir  William  and  Lady  Hamilton  re- 
turned home  in  1800,  they  attended  a  performance  at 
Drury  Lane,  where  Emma  and  her  old  fellow-servant 
were  the  cynosure  of  an  audience  ignorant  of  their 
former  association.  When  Lady  Hamilton  was  at 
Southend  in  the  late  summer  of  1803  she  again  met 
her  quondam  colleague.  Pettigrew  possessed  and 
quoted  a  nice  letter  from  her  on  this  occasion.  It  is 
assuredly  not  among  the  least  of  the  many  marvels 
attending  Emma's  progress  that  an  eminent  surgeon 
should  have  harboured  two  such  belles  in  his  area. 

And  now  Apocrypha  is  renewed.  Gossip  has  it 
that  she  served  in  a  shop;  that  she  became  parlour- 
maid elsewhere,  and  afterwards  the  risky  "  compan- 
ion "  of  a  vicious  "  Lady  of  Quality."  The  Prince 
Regent,  who  was  years  afterwards  to  solicit  and  be  re- 
pulsed by  her,  used  to  declare  that  he  recollected  her 
selling  fruit  with  wooden  pattens  on  her  feet;  but  he 
also  used  to  insist,  it  must  be  recollected,  on  his  own 
presence  at  the  battle  of  Waterloo.  It  was  said,  too, 


26  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

that  she  had  been  a  model  for  the  Academy  students. 
For  such  canards  there  is  no  certainty,  and  for  many 
rumours  there  is  slight  foundation.  But  there  is  a 
shade  of  evidence  to  show  that  somewhere  about  1781 
she  was  in  the  service  of  the  manager  of  Drury  Lane 
Theatre,  Sheridan's  father-in-law,  Thomas  Linley  the 
elder,  and  that  she  suddenly  quitted  it  from  grief  at 
the  death  of  his  young  son,  a  naval  lieutenant,  whom 
she  had  nursed.  Angelo  in  his  Reminiscences  has 
drawn  the  pathetic  picture  of  his  chance  meeting  with 
her  in  Rathbone  Place,  a  dejected  figure  clad  in  deep 
mourning;  he  has  added  an  earlier  encounter  and  an 
allusion  to  her  brief  sojourn  with  the  "  Abbess  "  of 
Arlington  Street,  Mrs.  Kelly,  who  may  be  identical 
with  the  "  Lady  of  Quality."  If  so,  destitution  must 
have  caused  her  downfall.  Hitherto  this  girl  of  six- 
teen, so  beautiful  that  passers-by  turned  spellbound  to 
look  at  her,  had  rejected  all  overtures  of  evil.  Writ- 
ing to  Romney  after  her  marriage,  in  a  letter  which 
seems  to  imply  that  she  had  known  him  even  before  her 
acquaintance  with  Greville,  Lady  Hamilton  thus  recalls 
her  past :  "  You  have  seen  and  discoursed  with  me  in 
my  poorer  days,  you  have  known  me  in  my  poverty  and 
prosperity,  and  I  had  no  occasion  to  have  lived  for 
years  in  poverty  and  distress  if  I  had  not  felt  some- 
thing of  virtue  in  my  mind.  Oh,  my  dear  friend,  for 
a  time  I  own  through  distress  my  virtue  was  van- 
quished, but  my  sense  of  virtue  was  not  overcome." 
Some  two  years  earlier,  when  she  had  insisted  on  ac- 
companying Sir  William  on  a  shooting  expedition, 
and  he  had  evidently  remonstrated  about  hardship, 
rough  lodging  did  not  deter  her;  she  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  it. 

From  Angelo's  story  it  would  appear  that  her 
earliest  admirer  was  Fetherstonehaugh,  who  will  soon 
cross  the  scene,  and  who  in  her  later  years  was  to 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  27 

emerge  friendly  and  even  respectful.  But  the  name  of 
her  first  betrayer  has  been  so  constantly  given  as  that 
of  "  Captain,"  afterwards  Rear-Admiral,  "  Jack  "  Wil- 
let-Payne,  man  of  fashion,  member  of  Parliament,  and 
eventually  treasurer  of  Greenwich  Hospital,  that  the 
story  cannot  be  wholly  discredited.  Tradition  has 
added  that  she  first  encountered  him  in  a  bold  attempt 
to  rescue  a  cousin  from  being  impressed  into  the 
service.  This  may  or  may  not  be.  The  sole  side- 
light, afforded  by  an  unnoticed  letter  from  Nelson  of 
1 80 1,  which  proves  that  she  had  confided  much  of  her 
past  to  her  hero,  more  probably  refers  to  Greville: 
"  That  other  chap  did  throw  away  the  most  precious 
jewel  that  God  ever  sent  on  this  earth." 

Her  relations  with  the  Captain  can  scarcely  have 
lasted  more  than  about  two  months.  If  she  was  his 
Ariadne,  he  sailed  away  in  haste,  nor  does  he  darken 
her  path  again.  It  was  perhaps  on  his  sudden  de- 
parture that  this  lonely  girl  fell  in  with  Dr.  Graham, 
the  empiric  and  showman.  How  she  met  him  is  un- 
known: that  he  was  anything  to  her  but  an  employer 
has  never  been  suggested;  that  he  ever  employed  her 
at  all  rests  merely  on  a  story,  so  accredited  by  Petti- 
grew,  who  had  known  several  of  her  early  contem- 
poraries, that  one  can  hardly  doubt  it.  The  sole  evi- 
dence that  she  ever  "posed"  for  him. is  to  be  found 
in  Greville's  reply  to  Emma's  appeal  already  cited:  in 
it  Greville  speaks  of  the  last  time  you  came  to  "  G.," 
which  Mr.  Jeaffreson  guesses  to  mean  "  Graham."  It 
may,  however,  at  once  be  noted  that  his  living  adver- 
tisement of  the  goddess  of  health  and  beauty,  "  Hebe 
Vestina,"  did  not  figure  in  his  museum  of  specifics 
until  1782,  when  he  had  removed  from  the  Adelphi  to 
Pall  Mall,  and  had  there  opened  his  "  Temple  of 
Hymen  "  in  the  eastern  part  of  Schomberg  House,  the 
western  side  of  which  had  been  leased  to  Gainsborough 


28  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

by  the  eccentric  artist  and  adventurer,  Jack  Astley. 
The  strong  probability  is  that  Emma  was  first  engaged 
by  him  as  a  singer  in  those  miniature  mock-oratorios 
and  cantatas,  composed  by  himself,  which  played  such 
a  part  in  his  miscellany,  and  were  supposed  to  attune 
the  souls  of  the  faithful;  while  her  expressive  beauty 
may  have  soon  tempted  him  to  exhibit  her  as  the 
draped  statue  of  "  Hygieia,"  or  Goddess  of  Health, 
though  certainly  not  as  his  later  tableau  vivant  of 
"  Hebe  Vestina." 

Dr.  Graham  was  no  common  impostor.  He  belongs 
to  the  class  of  charlatan  that  unites  pseudo-mysticism 
and  pseudo-piety  to  real  skill — in  short,  a  High  Priest 
of  Pompeian  Isis.  He  was  no  mere  conjurer;  he  ef- 
fected genuine  cures  besides  dealing  in  quack  remedies. 
At  this  time  he  was  about  forty  years  of  age.  He 
may  have  qualified  in  Edinburgh  University;  he  had 
certainly  travelled  in  France  and  America,  and  re- 
ceived testimonials  from  personages  at  home  and 
abroad.  He  knew  his  classics,  which  he  quoted 
profusely  in  those  curious  "  lectures  "  combining  puff 
with  literary,  satirical,  scriptural,  philanthropic,  and 
scientific  allusion.  His  brother  had  married  the  "  his- 
torian," Mrs.  Catharine  Macaulay,  who  often  figures 
in  his  florid  catalogues  of  cures.  That  authoress  is 
depicted  in  mezzo-tints  as  a  sickly-looking  lady,  pen 
in  hand,  with  a  row  of  her  volumes  before  her,  trying 
apparently  to  draw  inspiration  from  the  ceiling.  He 
was  never  tired  of  assuring  the  public  that  she  was  own 
sister  to  "  Mr.  John  Sawbridge,  M.P.  for  London." 
He  posed  as  a  sort  of  prayerful  alchemist,  eradicating 
and  healing  at  once  the  causes  of  vice,  and  its  conse- 
quences. His  advertisements  are  a  queer  union  of 
cant  earnestness,  travestied  truth,  sensible  nonsense, 
humour  and  the  lack  of  it,  effrontery  and  belief — 
especially  in  himself.  After  he  had  closed  his  costly: 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  29 

and  ruinous  London  exhibitions,  he  turned  "  Christian 
Philosopher  "  at  Bath  and  Newcastle,  anticipated  the 
modern  open-air  .  cure,  "  paraphrased  "  the  Lord's 
Prayer  for  the  public,  the  Book  of  Wisdom  for  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  and  hastened  to  lay  on  the  pillow  of 
the  suffering  George  III.  one  of  his  numerous 
"prayers."  His  specialty  in  1780  (and  throughout 
his  career)  was  the  then  derided  but  now  accepted  elec- 
tricity and  mud-baths.  By  their  means  he  claimed  to 
restore  and  preserve  beauty,  to  prolong  existence,  to 
enable  a  decayed  generation  to  repair  its  losses  by  a 
vigorous,  comely,  and  healthful  progeny.  He  had 
opened  a  pinchbeck  palace  enriched  with  symbolical 
paintings,  gilt  statues,  and  coloured  windows,  where 
up  to  ten  o'clock  nightly  he  advertised  his  wares  to 
the  sound  of  sweet  music,  in  his  "  Temple  of  yEscu- 
lapius  "  at  the  Royal  Terrace,  Adelphi.  His  pamphlets, 
sermons,  hymns,  exhortations,  and  satires,  were  rained 
on  the  town.  In  one  of  these  pieces  of  fulsome  reclame 
he  describes  his  museum  of  elixirs  as  Emma  may  have 
viewed  it  in  1780  or  1781.  Over  the  porch  stood 
the  inscription  "  Templum  ./Esculapio  Sacrum."  There 
were  three  gorgeously  decorated  rooms  with  galleries 
above,  and  pictures  of  heroes  and  kings,  including 
Alfred  the  Great.  Crystal  glass  pillars  enshrined  the 
costly  electrical  apparatus  for  reviving  youth  and 
strength.  The  third  chamber  was  the  tinsel  "  Temple 
of  Apollo  "  with  its  magnetic  "  celestial  bed,"  with  its 
gilt  dragons,  overarching  "  Pavilion,"  and  inscription, 
"  Dolorifica  res  est  si  quis  homo  dives  nullum  habet 
domi  suse  successorem."  "  But  on  the  right  of  the 
Temple,"  he  says,  "  is  strikingly  seen  a  beautiful  figure 
of  Fecundity,"  holding  her  cornucopia  and  surrounded 
by  reclining  children ;  and  above  all,  an  "  electric " 
"  celestial  glory,"  which,  mellowed  by  the  stained  win- 
dows, shed  a  dim  and  solemn  light.  Strains  of 


30  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

majestic  melody  filled  the  air;  and  here  also  were  sold 
his  "  Nervous  Balsam  "  and  "  Electrical  ^Ether  " ; 
while  in  the  mornings  this  reverse  of  "  seraphic  "  doc- 
tor punctually  attended  consultations  in  the  dwelling- 
rooms  adjoining. 

Whether  such  ambrosial  tomfoolery  yielded  Emma 
an  intermittent  livelihood  at  all,  and  whether  before 
she  loved  Willet-Payne  or  after,  remains  doubtful;  the 
latter  is  more  probable.  The  blatant  novelty-monger 
offered  prizes  for  emblematic  pictures,  and  it  is  possible 
that  Tresham,  or  even  his  friend  Romney,  might  have 
been  pressed  into  his  service.  It  may  well  be,  too, 
that  here  the  young  blood  and  baronet,  Sir  Henry 
Fetherstonehaugh,  became  her  admirer.  As  we  see 
him  in  his  letters  some  thirty  years  afterwards,  this 
worthy  appears  as  a  silly  old  beau  and  sportsman,  in- 
dulging in  compliments  pompous  as  his  political  reflec- 
tions, and  interlarding  his  correspondence  with  super- 
fluous French.  In  his  old  age  he  educated  and  mar- 
ried a  most  worthy  peasant  girl,  and  brought  her  sis- 
ter (also  educated  in  France)  to  reside  with  them  at 
Up  Park,  while  from  Lady  Fetherstonehaugh  the 
estate  passed  into  that  sister's  possession. 

Up  Park  (like  Willet-Payne)  was  fraught  with 
dreams  of  the  fleet,  for  from  its  lofty  position  on  the 
steep  Sussex  Downs  it  commands  a  prospect  of  Ports- 
mouth and  the  Isle  of  Wight.  Here  this  erring  and 
struggling  girl,  for  a  brief  space,  it  may  be  in  1781, 
became  the  mistress  of  the  mansion  and  its  roystering 
owner,  both  Nimrod  and  Macaroni.  Here  she 
"  witched  the  world  with  noble  horsemanship,"  for 
she  was  always  a  fearless  rider.  Here,  among  rakes, 
she  could  not  rest,  as  she  sighed  for  the  artistic  ad- 
miration which  her  tableau  vivant  in  the  Adelphi  had 
already  aroused  among  clever  Bohemians.  Here,  per- 
haps in  despair,  she  became  so  reckless  and  capricious, 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  31 

so  hopeless  of  that  peace  of  mind  and  happy  innocence 
which,  ten  years  later,  she  joyfully  assured  Romney 
had  been  restored  to  her  by  marriage,  that  she  was 
ejected  and  cast  adrift  at  the  very  moment  when  she 
found  herself  soon  to  become  a  mother.  That  she 
was  "  a  girl  in  reall  distres  "  for  the  first  time  (and 
not,  as  has  often  been  presumed,  for  the  second)  will 
be  shown  when  we  come  to  "  little  Emma,"  and  it  is 
here  evidenced  by  her  entreaty  that  Greville  would 
spare  her  mother  any  knowledge  of  this  fresh  and 
crushing  blow. 

At  Up  Park,  most  probably,  Greville  had  first  met 
her  in  the  autumn  of  1781,  on  one  of  those  shooting- 
parties  in  great  houses  which  he  always  frequented 
more  from  fashion  than  amusement.  She  had  doubt- 
less contrasted  him  with  Sir  Harry's  stupid  and  com- 
monplace acquaintances.  Greville  always  took  real  in- 
terest in  people  who  interested  him  at  all,  and  at  least 
he  never  acted  below  his  professions.  He  was  nobly 
bred,  considerate,  and  composed;  he  was  good-look- 
ing, prudent,  and  ever  liberal — in  advice.  No  wonder 
that  his  condescension  seemed  ideal  to  this  girl  of  six- 
teen, who  had  lost  yet  coveted  self-respect;  who  had 
already  suffered  from  degrading  experience,  and  yet 
had  ever  "  felt  something  of  virtue  "  in  her  "  mind." 
He  had  afterwards  (as  his  letter  will  show)  be- 
friended and  scolded  her  headstrong  sallies,  though 
his  warnings  must  have  passed  unheeded.  On  her 
retirement  in  disgrace  and  despair  to  her  loving  grand- 
mother at  Hawarden,  he  doubtless  gave  her  the  franked 
and  addressed  papers  enabling  her  to  communicate 
with  him  should  need  compel  her.  Just  as  evidently, 
she  had  written  and  been  touched  with  the  kind  tone  of 
his  answer.  It  seems  obvious  also  from  Greville's 
coming  reply  that,  as  was  her  way,  she  would  neither 
cajole  Sir  Harry  into  renewed  favour  nor  be  de- 


32  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

pendent  on  anything  but  sincere  kindness.  But  at  last 
she  was  trembling  on  a  precipice  from  the  brink  of 
which  she  besought  him  to  rescue  her. 

To  him  and  to  Fetherstonehaugh  she  was  known  as 
Emily  Hart;  nor,  in  spite  of  Greville's  advice,  would 
she,  or  did  she,  change  that  name  till  her  wedding. 
Whence  it  was  assumed  is  unknown.  In  the  Harvey 
family  there  lingered  a  tradition  that  "  Emma  Hart  " 
was  born  at  Southwell,  near  Biggleswade,  and  with  her 
mother  had  served  at  Ickwell  Bury,  where  she  was 
first  seen  and  painted  by  Romney.  But  this  is  wholly 
unfounded,  though  Romney  appears  to  have  painted 
portraits  in  that  house,  and  it  is  curious  that,  about 
forty  years  ago,  one  Robert  Hart — still  living — was  a 
butler  in  their  service  and  professed  to  be  in  some 
way  related  to  Lady  Hamilton.  A  guess  might 
be  hazarded  that  "  Hart "  was  derived  from  the 
musician  of  that  name  who  visited  Hamilton's 
house  at  Naples  in  1786  as  her  old  acquaintance.  Not 
one  of  the  parish  registers  offers  any  solution  through 
the  names  of  her  kindred.  The  "  Emily "  became 
Emma  through  the  artists  and  the  poets,  through  Rom- 
ney and  Hayley. 

It  is  "  Emly  Hart's  "  pleading  and  pathetic  note, 
then,  that  Charles  Greville  still  holds  in  his  fastidious 
hands  on  this  winter  morning.  With  a  glance  at  his 
statues,  specimens,  and  the  repaired  Venus,  and  pos- 
sibly with  a  pang  at  the  thought  of  the  plight  to  which 
this  "  modern  piece  of  virtu "  was  reduced,  he  sits 
down  most  deliberately  to  compose  his  answer.  How 
deliberately,  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  of  this  letter 
he  kept  a  "  pressed  copy  "  done  in  the  ink  just  in- 
vented by  James  Watt ;  it  was  a  minute  of  semi-official 
importance.  The  letter  is  long,  and  extracts  will  suf- 
fice; it  will  be  gathered  that  he  was  more  prig  than 


33 

profligate,  and  he  had  evidently  formed  the  delightful 
design  of  being  her  mentor  : — 

"  My  dear  Emily, — I  do  not  make  apologies  for  Sir 
H.'s  behaviour  to  you,  and  altho'  I  advised  you  to 
deserve  his  esteem  by  your  good  conduct,  I  own  I  never 
expected  better  from  him.  It  was  your  duty  to  de- 
serve good  treatment,  and  it  gave  me  great  concern 
to  see  you  imprudent  the  first  time  you  came  to  G., 
from  the  country,  as  the  same  conduct  was  repeated 
when  you  was  last  in  town,  I  began  to  despair  of  your 
happiness.  To  prove  to  you  that  I  do  not  accuse  you 
falsely,  I  only  mention  five  guineas  and  half  a  guinea 
for  coach.  But,  my  dear  Emily,  as  you  seem  quite 
miserable  now,  I  do  not  mean  to  give  you  uneasiness, 
but  comfort,  and  tell  you  that  I  will  forget  your  faults 
and  bad  conduct  to  Sir  H.  and  myself,  and  will  not 
repent  my  good  humor  if  I  find  that  you  have  learned 
by  experience  to  value  yourself,  and  endeavor  to  pre- 
serve your  friends  by  good  conduct  and  affection.  I 
will  now  answer  your  last  letter.  You  tell  me  you 
think  your  friends  look  cooly  on  you,  it  is  therefore 
time  to  leave  them:  but  it  is  necessary  for  you  to  de- 
cide some  points  before  you  come  to  town.  You  are 
sensible  that  for  the  next  three  months  your  situation 
will  not  admit  of  a  giddy  life,  if  you  wished  it.  ... 
After  you  have  told  me  that  Sir  H.  gave  you  barely 
money  to  get  to  your  friends,  and  has  never  answered 
one  letter  since,  and  neither  provides  for  you  nor  takes 
any  notice  of  you,  it  might  appear  laughing  at  you  to 
advise  you  to  make  Sir  H.  more  kind  and  attentive.  I 
do  not  think  a  great  deal  of  time  should  be  lost,  for  I 
have  never  seen  a  woman  clever  enough  to  keep  a  man 
who  was  tired  of  her.  But  it  is  a  great  deal  more  for 
me  to  advise  you  never  to  see  him  again,  and  to  write 
only  to  inform  him  of  your  determination.  You  must, 
however,  do  either  the  one  or  the  other.  .  .  .  You  may 


34  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

easily  see,  my  dearest  Emily,  why  it  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary for  this  point  to  be  completely  settled  before  I  can 
move  one  step.  If  you  love  Sir  H.  you  should  not  give 
him  up.  ...  But  besides  this,  my  Emily,  I  would  not 
be  troubled  with  your  connexions  (excepting  your 
mother)  and  with  Sir  H. ('s)  friends  for  the  universe. 
My  advice  then  is  to  take  a  steady  resolution.  ...  I 
shall  then  be  free  to  dry  up  the  tears  of  my  lovely 
Emily  and  to  give  her  comfort.  If  you  do  not  forfeit 
my  esteem  perhaps  my  Emily  may  be  happy.  You 
know  I  have  been  so  by  avoiding  the  vexation  which 
frequently  arises  from  ingratitude  and  caprice. 
Nothing  but  your  letter  and  your  distress  could  incline 
me  to  alter  my  system,  but  remember  I  never  will  give 
up  my  peace,  or  continue  my  connexion  one  moment 
after  my  confidence  is  betray'd.  If  you  should  come 
to  town  and  take  my  advice  .  .  .  You  should  part 
with  your  maid  and  take  another  name.  By  degrees 
I  would  get  you  a  new  set  of  acquaintances,  and  by 
keeping  your  own  secret,  and  no  one  about  you  having 
it  in  their  power  to  betray  you,  I  may  expect  to  see  you 
respected  and  admired.  Thus  far  as  relates  to  your- 
self. As  to  the  child  ...  its  mother  shall  obtain  it 
kindness  from  me,  and  it  shall  never  want.  I  inclose 
you  some  money;  do  not  throw  it  away.  You  may 
send  some  presents  when  you  arrive  in  town,  but  do 
not  be  on  the  road  without  some  money  to  spare  in 
case  you  should  be  fatigued  and  wish  to  take  your  time. 
I  will  send  Sophy  anything  she  wishes  for.  .  .  .  God 
bless  you,  my  dearest  lovely  girl ;  take  your  determina- 
tion and  let  me  hear  from  you  once  more.  Adieu,  my 
dear  Emily."  * 

And  with  this  salutation  Greville  folds  his  paper 
with  precision  and  addresses  it,  in  the  complacent  be- 
lief that  it  is  irresistible.     Truly  an  impeccable  shep- 
1  Morrison  MS.  114,  January  10,  1782. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  35 

herd  of  lost  sheep,  a  prodigious  preacher  to  runagates 
continuing  in  scarceness;  a  Mr.  Barlow-Rochester  with 
a  vengeance!  And  yet  real  goodwill  underlies  the 
guardedness  of  his  disrespectable  sermon.  As,  how- 
ever, he  sinks  back  in  his  chair,  and  plumes  himself 
on  the  communique,  it  never  strikes  him  for  an  instant 
that  this  wild  and  unfortunate  girl  is  quite  capable  of 
distancing  her  tutor  and  of  swaying  larger  destinies 
than  his.  His  main  and  constant  object  was  never  to 
appear  ridiculous.  So  absurd  a  forecast  would  have 
irretrievably  grotesqued  him  in  his  own  eyes  and  in 
those  of  his  friends.  His  attitude  towards  women  ap- 
pears best  from  his  reflections  nearly  five  years  later, 
which  read  like  a  page  of  La  Rochefoucauld  tied  up 
with  red  tape : — 

".  .  .  With  women,  I  observe  they  have  only  re- 
source in  Art,  and  there  is  to  them  no  interval  between 
plain  ground  and  the  precipice;  and  the  springs  of  ac- 
tion are  so  much  in  the  extreme  of  sublime  and  low, 
that  no  absolute  dependence  can  be  given  by  men.  It 
is  for  this  reason  I  always  have  anticipated  cases  to 
prepare  their  mind  to  reasonable  conduct,  and  it  will 
always  have  its  impression,  altho'  they  will  fly  at  the 
mere  mention  of  truth  if  it  either  hurts  their  pride 
or  their  intrest,  and  the  latter  has  much  more  rarely 
weight  with  a  young  woman  than  the  former;  and 
therefore  it  is  like  playing  a  trout  to  keep  up  pride  to 
make  them  despise  meaness,  and  not  to  retain  the  bom- 
bast which  would  render  the  man  who  gave  way  to 
'it  the  air  of  a  dupe  and  a  fool.  It  requires  much  con- 
duct to  steer  properly,  but  it  is  to  be  done  when  a 
person  is  handsome,  and  has  a  good  heart;  but  to  do 
it  without  hurting  their  feelings  requires  constant  at- 
tention; it  is  not  in  the  moment  of  irritation  or  passion 
that  advice  has  effect;  it  is  in  the  moment  of  reason  and 
good  nature.  It  reduces  itself  to  simple  subjects;  and 

Memoirs— Vol.  14—2 


36  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

when  a  woman  can  see  more  than  one  alternative  of 
comfort  or  despair,  of  attention  and  desertion,  they  can 
take  a  line."  * 

Thus  Greville — the  prudent  psychologist  of  woman- 
kind and  the  nice  moralist  of  the  immoral.  His  meta- 
phor of  the  "  trout  "  must  have  appealed  to  that  keen 
fisherman,  his  "  dear  Hamilton."  Greville  angled  for 
"  disinterested  "  hearts  with  a  supple  rod.  His  "  sys- 
tem "  was  to  attach  friendship  rather  than  to  rivet  af- 
fection; to  "  play  "  a  woman's  heart  in  the  quick  stream 
of  credulous  emotion  past  the  perilous  eddies  of  head- 
long impulse  with  the  bait  of  self-esteem,  till  it  could 
be  safely  landed  in  a  basket,  to  be  afterwards  trans- 
ferred for  the  fish's  own  benefit  to  a  friend.  If  the 
trout  refused  thus  to  be  landed,  it  must  be  dropped 
into  the  depths  of  its  own  f reward  will;  but  the  sports- 
man could  at  least  console  himself  by  the  thought  that, 
as  sportsman,  he  had  done  his  duty  and  observed  the 
rules  of  his  game.  Greville  was  already  contemplat- 
ing a  less  expensive  shrine  for  his  minerals  and  old 
masters.  He  was  anxious  to  be  quit  of  Portman 
Square,  and  a  light  purse  proverbially  makes  a  heavy 
heart. 

He  must  be  left  calculating  his  chances,  while  his 
Dulcinea  books  places  in  the  Chester  coach,  weeps  for 
joy,  and  kisses  her  Don  Quixote's  billet  with  impetuous 
gratitude. 

*Morrisorv  MS.  156,  November  (?)   1786. 


CHAPTER  II 

"  THE   FAIR   TEA-MAKER   OF   EDGWARE   ROW  " 

March  1782 — August  1784 

AjrIRLISH  voice,  fresh  as  the  spring  morning  on 
Paddington  Green  outside,  with  its  rim  of  tall 
elms,  and  clear  as  the  warbling  of  their  birds, 
rings  out  through  the  open  window  with  its  bright 
burden  of  "  Banish  sorrow  until  to-morrow."  The 
music-master  has  just  passed  through  the  little  garden- 
wicket,  the  benefactor  will  soon  return  from  town, 
and  fond  Emma  will  please  him  by  her  progress.  Na- 
ture smiles  without  and  within ;  "  Mrs.  Cadogan  " 
bustles  over  the  spring-cleaning  below,  and  to-morrow 
the  radiant  housewife  will  take  her  shilling's-worth  of 
hackney  coach  as  far  as  Romney's  studio  in  Cavendish 
Square.  She  is  very  happy;  it  is  almost  as  if  she  were 
a  young  bride ;  perchance,  who  knows,  one  day  she  may 
be  Greville's  wife.  In  her  heart  she  is  so  now;  and 
yet  at  times  that  hateful  past  will  haunt  her.  It  shall 
be  buried  with  the  winter;  "  I  will  have  it  so,"  as  she 
was  to  write  of  another  matter.  And  is  it  not 

"  Spring-time,  the  only  pretty  ring  time, 
When  birds  do  sing  hey  ding  a-ding  a-ding"? 

Edgware  Row  a  hundred  and  twenty-three  years 
ago  was  the  reverse  of  what  it  looks  to-day.  Its  site, 
now  a  network  of  slums,  was  then  a  country  prospect. 
It  fronted  the  green  sward  of  a  common,  abutting 
on  the  inclosure  of  a  quaint  old  church,  in  a  vault  of 

37 


38  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

which,  when  the  crowning  blow  fell,  Lady  Hamilton 
was  to  lay  the  remains  of  her  devoted  mother.  That 
church  had  for  many  years  been  associated  with  artists, 
singers,  and  musicians,  British  and  foreign.  Here  in 
March,  1733,  the  apprentice  Hogarth  had  wedded  Jane 
Thornhill,  his  master's  daughter.  Here  lay  buried 
Matthew  Dubourg,  the  court  violinist;  and  Emma 
could  still  read  his  epitaph  : — 

"  Tho'  sweet  as  Orpheus  them  couldst  bring 
Soft  pleadings  from  the  trembling  string, 
Unmoved  the  King  of  Terror  stands 
Nor  owns  the  magic  of  thy  hands." 

Here,  too,  lay  buried  George  Barret,  "  an  eminent 
painter  and  worthy  man."  Here  later  were  to  lie  Lolli, 
the  violinist ;  the  artists  Schiavonetti  and  Sandby ;  Nol- 
lekens  and  Banks  the  sculptors;  Alexander  Geddes  the 
scholar;  Merlin  the  mechanic;  Caleb  Whiteford  the 
wine-merchant  wit;  and  his  great  patron,  John  Henry 
Petty,  Marquis  of  Lansdowne,  who  descends  to  his- 
tory as  the  Earl  of  Shelburne.  Here  once  resided  the 
charitable  Denis  Chirac,  jeweller  to  Queen  Anne. 
Here,  too,  were  voluntary  schools  and  the  lying-in  hos- 
pital. The  canal,  meandering  as  far  as  Bolingbroke's 
Hayes  in  one  direction,  and  Lady  Sarah  Child's  Nor- 
wood in  the  other,  was  not  finished  till  1801,  when 
Lady  Hamilton  may  have  witnessed  its  opening  cere- 
mony. 

Greville,  still  saddled  with  his  town  abode,  at  once 
economised.  The  Edgware  Row  establishment  was 
modest  in  both  senses  of  the  word.  He  brought  repu- 
table friends  to  the  house, and  a  few  neighbouringladies 
seem  to  have  called.  The  household  expenses  did  not 
exceed  some  £150  a  year.  Emma's  own  yearly  allow- 
ance was  only  about  £50,  and  she  lived  well  within  it. 
Her  mother  was  a  clever  manager,  whose  services  the 
thrifty  prodigal  appreciated.  The  existing  household 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  39 

accounts  in  Emma's  handwriting  only  start  in  1784, 
but  from  them  some  idea  may  be  formed  of  what  they 
were  in  the  two  years  preceding.  They  belong  to  thei 
Hamilton  papers  inherited  by  Greville  in  1803,  and 
they  were  evidently  deemed  worthy  of  preservation 
both  by  nephew  and  uncle. 

It  is  clear  from  these  accounts  that  all  was  now 
"  retrenchment  and  reform  " ;  that  all  was  not  plenty, 
is  equally  apparent.  But  Emma  was  more  than  satis- 
fied with  her  lot.  Had  not  her  knight-errant  (or 
erring)  dropped  from  heaven?  From  the  first  she  re- 
garded him  as  a  superior  being,  and  by  1784  she  came 
to  love  him  with  intense  tenderness;  indeed  she  ideal- 
ised him  as  much  as  others  were  afterwards  to  idealise 
her. 

All  was  not  yet,  however,  wholly  peace.  Her  char- 
acter was  far  from  being  ideal,  quite  apart  from  the 
circumstances  which,  by  comparison,  she  viewed  as 
almost  conjugal.  Her  petulant  temper  remained  un- 
quelled  long  after  her  tamer  undertook  to  "  break  it 
in,"  and  there  were  already  occasional  "  scenes " 
against  her  own  interest.  Yet  how  soon  and  warm- 
heartedly she  repented  may  be  gathered  from  her  let- 
ters two  years  onwards,  when  she  was  sea-bathing  at 
Parkgate :  "  So,  my  dearest  Greville,"  pleads  one  of 
them,  "  don't  think  on  my  past  follies,  think  on  my 
good,  little  as  it  has  been."  And,  before,  "  Oh ! 
Greville,  when  I  think  on  your  goodness,  your  tender 
kindness,  my  heart  is  so  full  of  gratitude  that  I  want 
words  to  express  it.  But  I  have  one  happiness  in 
view,  which  I  am  determined  to  practice,  and  that  is 
eveness  of  temper  and  steadin[e]ss  of  mind.  For 
endead  I  have  thought  so  much  of  your  amable  good- 
ness when  you  have  been  tried  to  the  utmost,  that  I 
will,  endead  I  will  manege  myself,  and  try  to  be  like 
Greville.  Endead  I  can  never  be  like  him.  But  I 


40  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

will  do  all  I  can  towards  it,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  not 
desire  more.  I  think  if  the  time  would  come  over 
again,  I  would  be  differant.  But  it  does  not  matter. 
There  is  nothing  like  bying  expearance.  I  may  be 
happyer  for  it  hereafter,  and  I  will  think  of  the  time 
coming  and  not  of  the  past,  except  to  make  compar- 
rasons,  to  shew  you  what  alterations  there  is  for  the 
best.  .  .  .  O  Greville !  think  on  me  with  kindness ! 
Think  on  how  many  happy  days  weeks  and  years — I 
hope — we  may  yett  pass.  .  .  .  And  endead,  did  you 
but  know  how  much  I  love  you,  you  wou'd  freely  for- 
give me  any  passed  quarrels.  For  I  now  suffer  from 
them,  and  one  line  from  you  wou'd  make  me  happy. 
.  .  .  But  how  am  I  to  make  you  amends?  ...  I  will 
try,  I  will  do  my  utmost;  and  I  can  only  regrett  that 
fortune  will  not  put  it  in  my  power  to  make  a  return 
for  all  the  kindness  and  goodness  you  have  showed 
me." 

Conscious  of  growing  gifts,  she  had  chafed  by  fits 
and  starts  at  the  seclusion  of  her  home — for  home  it 
was  to  her,  in  her  own  words,  "  though  never  so 
homely."  On  one  occasion  (noted  by  Pettigrew  and 
John  Romney  too  substantially  to  admit  of  its  being 
fiction)  Greville  took  her  to  Ranelagh,  and  was  an- 
noyed by  her  bursting  into  song  before  an  applauding 
crowd.  His  displeasure  so  affected  her  that  on  her 
return  she  doffed  her  finery,  donned  the  plainest  at- 
tire, and,  weeping,  entreated  him  to  retain  her  thus 
or  be  quit  of  her.  This  episode  may  well  have 
been  the  source  of  Romney's  picture  "  The  Seam- 
stress." 

The  accounts  omit  any  mention  of  amusements,  and 
it  must  have  been  Greville  alone  who  (rarely)  treated 
her.  She  may  have  seen  "  Coxe's  Museum,"  and  the 
"  balloonists  "  Lunardi  and  Sheldon,  the  Italian  at  the 
Pantheon,  the  Briton  in  Foley  Gardens.  She  may 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  41 

have  been  present,  too,  when  in  the  new  "  Marylebone 
Gardens  "  Signer  Torre  gave  one  of  his  firework  dis- 
plays of  Mount  Etna  in  eruption.  If  so,  how  odd 
must  she  afterwards  have  thought  it,  that  her  hus- 
band was  to  be  the  leading  authority  on  Italian  and 
Sicilian  volcanoes !  But  what  at  once  amazed  Greville 
— the  paragon  of  nil  admirari — was  the  transformation 
that  she  seriously  set  herself  to  achieve.  "  She  does 
not,"  observed  this  economist  of  ease  three  years  later, 
"  wish  for  much  society,  but  to  retain  two  or  three 
creditable  acquaintances  in  the  neighbourhood  she  has 
avoided  every  appearance  of  giddiness,  and  prides 
herself  on  the  neatness  of  her  person  and  the  good 
order  of  her  house;  these  are  habits,"  he  comments, 
"  both  comfortable  and  convenient  to  me.  She  has 
vanity  and  likes  admiration;  but  she  connects  it  so 
much  with  her  desire  of  appearing  prudent,  that  she  is 
more  pleas 'd  zvith  accidental  admiration  than  that  of 
crowds  ^vhich  now  distress  her.  In  short,  this  habit, 
of  three  or  four  years'  acquiring,  is  not  a  caprice,  but  is 
easily  to  be  continued.  .  .  ."  "  She  never  has  wished 
for  an  improper  acquaintance,"  he  adds  a  month  later. 
"  She  has  dropt  everyone  she  thought  I  could  except 
against,  and  those  of  her  own  choice  have  been  in  a 
line  of  prudence  and  plainness  which,  tho'  I  might  have 
wished  for,  I  could  not  have  proposed  to  confine  her 
[to]." 

Their  visitors  seem  to  have  included  his  brother  and 
future  executor,  Colonel  the  Honourable  Robert  Fulke- 
Greville,  with  perhaps,  too,  his  kinsmen  the  Cathcarts; 
afterwards,  the  sedate  Banks,  a  Mr.  Tollemache,  the 
Honourable  Heneage  Legge,  whom  we  shall  find  meet- 
ing her  just  before  her  marriage,  and  oftener  the  artist 
Gavin  Hamilton,  Sir  William's  namesake  and  kinsman. 
He  at  once  put  Emma  on  his  "  list  of  favorites,"  re- 
minding him,  as  she  did,  of  a  Roman  beauty  that  he 


42 

had  once  known,  but  superior  to  her,  he  said,  in  the 
lines  of  her  beautiful  and  uncommon  mouth.  Her 
main  recreation,  besides  her  study  to  educate  herself, 
were  those  continual  visits  to  Romney,  which  indeed 
assisted  it.  His  Diaries  contain  almost  three  hundred 
records  of  "  Mrs.  Hart's  "  sittings  during  these  four 
years,  most  of  them  at  an  early  hour,  for  Emma,  ex- 
cept in  illness,  was  never  a  late  riser.  One  portrait  of 
her,  unmentioned  in  our  previous  list,  represents  her 
reading  the  Gazette  with  a  startled  expression.  I  have 
been  informed  (though  at  first  I  thought  otherwise) 
that  this  is  really  a  likeness  of  her  in  the  character  of 
Serena  reading  scandal  about  herself  in  the  pages  of  a 
journal.  "  While,"  remarks  the  sententious  John 
Romney,  "  she  lived  under  Greville's  protection,  her 
conduct  was  in  every  way  correct,  except  only  in  the 
unfortunate  situation  in  which  she  happened  to  be 
placed  by  the  concurrence  of  peculiar  circumstances 
such  as  might  perhaps  in  a  certain  degree  be  admitted 
as  an  extenuation.  .  .  .  Here  is  a  young  female  of 
an  artless  and  playful  character,  of  extraordinary  Ele- 
gance and  symmetry  of  form,  of  a  most  beautiful  coun- 
tenance glowing  with  health  and  animation,  turned 
upon  the  wide  world.  ...  In  all  Mr.  Romney's  inter- 
course with  her  she  was  treated  with  the  utmost  re- 
spect, and  her  demeanour  fully  entitled  her  to  it."  He 
adds  that  she  "  sat "  for  the  "  face  "  merely  and  "  a 
slight  sketch  of  the  attitude,"  and  that  in  the  "  Bac- 
chante "  he  painted  her  countenance  alone ;  while  Hay- 
ley,  in  his  Life  of  the  painter,  speaks  of  "  the  high  and 
constant  admiration "  with  which  Romney  contem- 
plated not  only  the  "  personal  "  but  the  "  mental  en- 
dowments of  this  lady,  and  the  gratitude  he  felt  for 
many  proofs  of  her  friendship,"  as  expressed  in  his 
letters.  "  The  talents,"  he  continues,  "  which  nature 
bestowed  on  the  fair  Emma,  led  her  to  delight  in  the 


43 

two  kindred  arts  of  music  and  painting;  in  the  first  she 
acquired  great  practical  ability;  for  the  second  she 
had  exquisite  taste,  and  such  expressive  powers  as 
could  furnish  to  an  historical  painter  an  inspiring 
model  for  the  various  characters  either  delicate  or 
sublime.  .  .  .  Her  features,  like  the  language  of 
Shakespeare,  could  exhibit  all  the  gradations  of  every 
passion  with  a  most  fascinating  truth  and  felicity  of 
expression.  Romney  delighted  in  observing  the  won- 
derful command  she  possessed  over  her  eloquent 
features."  He  called  her  his  "  inspirer."  To  Rom- 
ney, as  we  have  already  seen,  she  "  first  opened  her 
heart."  At  Romney's  she  met  those  literary  and 
artistic  lights  that  urged  her  native  intelligence  into 
imitation.  A  sketch  by  Romney  of  his  studio  displays 
her  seated  as  his  model  for  the  "  Spinstress  "  by  her 
spinning-wheel.  A  figure  entering  and  smiling  is 
Greville ;  of  two  others  seated  at  a  table,  the  one  appeal- 
ing to  her  would  seem  to  be  Hayley,  to  whom  she  al- 
ways gratefully  confessed  her  obligations. 

William  Hayley,  the  "Hermit"  of  Eartham,  the 
close  ally  both  of  Romney  and  Cowper,  must  have  been 
far  more  interesting  in  his  conversation  than  his  books, 
though  his  Triumphs  of  Temper  created  a  sensation 
now  difficult  to  understand.  He  was  a  clever,  ego- 
tistical eccentric,  who  successively  parted  from  two 
wives  with  whom  he  yet  continued  to  correspond  in  af- 
fectionate friendship.  Curiously  enough,  Hayley's 
rhymed  satirical  comedies  x  are  much  the  best  of  his 
otherwise  stilted  verses.  He  must  have  remembered 
Hamilton  and  Greville  when,  in  one  of  them,  he  makes 
"  Mr.  Beril  "  account  for  his  ownership  of  a  lovely 
Greek  statue: 

1  The  Happy  Prescription  (1784)  and  The  Two  Connoisseurs 
are  brilliant  vers  de  societe.  For  Horace  Walpole's  poor  opinion 
of  his  authorship,  cf.  Letters,  vol.  viii.  pp.  235,  236,  251. 


44  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

"  I  owe  it  to  chance,  to  acknowledge  the  truth, 
And  a  princely  and  brave  Neapolitan  youth, 
Whom  I  luckily  saved  in  a  villainous  strife 
From  the  dagger  of  jealousy  aimed  at  his  life:" 

and  when  his  "  Bijou  "  ironically  observes  to  "  Var- 
nish " : 

"  I  protest  your  remark  is  ingenious  and  new, 
You  have  gusto  in  morals  as  well  as  virtu : " 

His  unfamiliar  sonnet  on  Romney's  "  Cassandra " 
may  be  here  cited,  since  it  may  have  suggested  to 
Greville  his  estimate  of  Emma — "  piece  of  modern 
virtu  " : 

"Ye  fond  idolaters  of  ancient  art, 

Who  near  Parthenope  with  curious  toil, 
Forcing  the  rude  sulphureous  rocks  to  part, 

Draw  from  the  greedy  earth  her  buried  spoil 
Of  antique  entablature;  and  from  the  toil 

Of  time  restoring  some  fair  form,  acquire 
A  fancied  jewel,  know  'tis  but  a  foil 

To  this  superior  gem  of  richer  fire. 
In  Romney's  tints  behold  the  Trojan  maid, 

See  beauty  blazing  in  prophetic  ire. 
From  palaces  engulphed  could  earth  retire, 

And  show  thy  works,  Apelles,  undecay'd, 
E'en  thy  Campaspe  would  not  dare  to  vie 
With  the  wild  splendour  of  Cassandra's  eye." 

In  a  late  letter  to  Lady  Hamilton  the  poet  assures 
her  that  an  unpublished  ode  was  wholly  inspired  by 
her,  and  there  are  traces  of  her  influence  even  in  his 
poor  tragedies.  But  since  "  Serena  "  influenced  her 
often,  it  may  be  of  interest  to  single  out  a  few  lines 
from  the  Triumphs  of  Temper  (composed  some  years 
before  its  author  first  met  her)  as  likelier  to  have  ar- 
rested her  attention  than  his  triter  commonplaces  about 
"  spleen  "  and  "  cheerfulness  "  : 

"  Free  from  ambitious  pride  and  envious  care, 
To  love  and  to  be  loved  was  all  her  prayer." 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  45 

"  Th'  imperishable  wealth   of  sterling  love." 

"  .   .    .  She's  everything  by  starts  and  nothing  long, 
But  in  the  space  of  one  revolving  hour 
Flies  thro  all  states  of  poverty  and  power, 
All  forms  on  whom  her  veering  mind  can  pitch, 
Sultana,  Gipsy,  Goddess,  nymph,  and  witch. 
At  length,  her  soul  with  Shakespeare's  magic  fraught, 
The  wand  of  Ariel  fixed  her  roving  thought." 

And 

"  But  mild  Serena  scorn'd  the  prudish  play 
To  wound  warm  love  with  frivolous  delay; 
Nature's  chaste  child,  not  Affection's  slave, 
The  heart  she  meant  to  give,  she  frankly  gave." 

The  August  of  1782  brought  about  an  event  decisive 
for  Emma's  future — the  death  of  the  first  Lady  Ham- 
ilton, the  Ambassador's  marriage  with  whom  in  1757 
had  been  mainly  one  of  convenience,  though  it  had 
proved  one  also  of  comfort  and  esteem.  She  was  a 
sweet,  tranquil  soul  of  rapt  holiness,  what  the  Germans 
call  "  Eine  schone  Seele,"  and  she  worshipped  the  very 
earth  that  her  light-hearted  husband,  far  nearer  to  it 
than  she  was,  trod  on.  He  had  set  out  as  a  young 
captain  of  foot,  who,  in  his  own  words,  had  "  known 
the  pinch  of  poverty  ";  but  during  the  whole  twenty- 
five  years  of  their  union  she  had  never  once  reproached 
him,  and  had  dedicated  to  him  all  "  that  long  disease  " 
she  called  "  her  life."  So  far,  though  intimate  with 
the  young  Sicilian  King  and  friendly  with  the  Queen, 
Hamilton  had  weighed  little  in  diplomacy.  In  a 
sprightly  letter  to  the  Earl  of  Dartmouth  some  six 
years  earlier,  he  observes :  "  It  is  singular  but  certainly 
true  that  I  am  become  more  a  ministre  de  farnille  at 
this  court  than  ever  were  the  ministers  of  France, 
Spain,  and  Vienna.  Whenever  there  is  a  good  shoot- 
ing-party H.S.  Majesty  is  pleased  to  send  for  me,  and 
for  some  months  past  I  have  had  the  honour  of  dining 


46 

with  him  twice  or  three  times  a  week,  nay  sometimes 
I  have  breakfasted,  dined,  and  supped  ...  in  their 
private  party  without  any  other  minister."  He  next 
descants  on  his  exceptional  opportunities  of  helping  the 
English  in  Naples.  He  hits  off  a  certain  Lady  Boyd 
among  them  as  "  Like  Mr.  Wilkes,  but  she  has  [such] 
a  way  of  pushing  forward  that  face  of  hers  and  filling 
every  muscle  of  it  with  good  humour,  that  her  homeli- 
ness is  forgot  in  a  moment  ";  and  he  concludes  with  the 
usual  complaint  that — unlike  his  predecessor,  Sir  Will- 
iam Lynch — he  has  not  yet  been  made  "  Privy  Coun- 
cillor." So  dissatisfied  was  he  that  in  1774  he  had 
tried  hard  on  one  of  his  periodical  home  visits  to  ex- 
change his  ambassadorship  at  Naples  for  one  at 
Madrid ;  and  hitherto  science,  music,  pictures,  archaeol- 
ogy, sport,  and  gallantry  had  occupied  his  constant 
leisure — indeed  he  was  more  of  a  Consul  than  of  an 
Ambassador.  General  Acton's  advent,  however,  as 
Minister  of  War  and  Marine  in  1779  proved  a  passing 
stimulus  to  his  dormant  energy.  If  a  dawdler,  he  was 
never  a  trifler;  and  he  was  uniformly  courteous  and 
kind-hearted.  His  frank  geniality  recommended  him 
as  bear-leader  to  the  many  English  visitors  who  flocked 
annually  to  Naples,  often  stumbled  lightly  into  scrapes 
that  caused  him  infinite  trouble,  and  prompted  his 
humorous  regret  that  Magna  Charta  contained  no 
clause  forbidding  Britons  to  emigrate.  It  was  not  till 
Emma  dawned  on  his  horizon  that  he  woke  up  in 
earnest  to  the  duties  of  his  office.  His  wife  made 
every  effort,  so  far  as  her  feeble  health  admitted,  to 
grace  his  hospitalities.  She  shared  his  own  taste  for 
music,  and  sang  to  the  harpsichord  before  the  Court  of 
Vienna.  The  sole  regret  of  her  unselfish  piety  was 
that  he  remained  a  worldling.  She  studied  to  spare 
him  every  vexation  and  intrusion;  and  while  he  pur- 
sued his  long  rambles,  sporting,  artistic,  or  sentimental, 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  47 

she  sat  at  home  praying  for  her  elderly  Pierrot's 
eternal  welfare.  Her  example  dispensed  with  pre- 
cepts, and  hoped  to  win-  her  wanderer  back  imper- 
ceptibly. How  little  she  deserved  the  caricature  of 
her  as  merely  "  a  raw-boned  Scotchwoman  "  may  be 
gleaned  from  some  of  the  last  jottings  in  her  diary  and 
her  last  letters  to  her  husband : — 

"  How  tedious  are  the  hours  I  pass  in  the  absence  of 
the  beloved  of  my  heart,  and  how  tiresome  is  every 
scene  to  me.  There  is  the  chair  in  which  he  used  to 
sit,  I  find  him  not  there,  and  my  heart  feels  a  pang, 
and  my  foolish  eyes  overflow  with  tears.  The  num- 
ber of  years  we  have  been  married,  instead  of  dimin- 
ishing my  love  have  increased  it  to  that  degree  and 
wound  it  up  with  my  existence  in  such  a  manner  that 
it  cannot  alter.  How  strong  are  the  efforts  I  have 
made  to  conquer  my  feelings,  but  in  vain.  .  .  .  No 
one  but  those  who  have  felt  it  can  know  the  miserable 
anxiety  of  an  undivided  love.  When  he  is  present, 
every  object  has  a  different  appearance;  when  he  is 
absent,  how  lonely,  how  isolated  I  feel.  ...  I  re- 
turn home,  and  there  the  very  dog  stares  me  in  the 
face  and  seems  to  ask  for  its  beloved  master.  .  .  .  Oh ! 
blessed  Lord  God  and  Saviour,  be  Thou  mercifully 
pleas'd  to  guard  and  protect  him  in  all  dangers  and  in 
all  situations.  Have  mercy  upon  us  both,  oh  Lord, 
and  turn  our  hearts  to  Thee." 

"  A  few  days,  nay  a  few  hours  .  .  .  may  render 
me  incapable  of  writing  to  you.  .  .  .  But  how  shall  I 
express  my  love  and  tenderness  to  you,  dearest  of 
earthly  blessings.  My  only  attachment  to  this  world 
has  been  my  love  to  you,  and  you  are  my  only  regret  in 
leaving  it.  My  heart  has  followed  your  footsteps 
where  ever  you  went,  and  you  have  been  the  source  of 
all  my  joys.  I  would  have  preferred  beggary  with 
you  to  kingdoms  without  you,  but  all  this  must  have 


48 

an  end — forget  and  forgive  my  faults  and  remember 
me  with  kindness.  I  entreat  you  not  to  suffer  me  to 
be  shut  up  after  I  am  dead  till  it  is  absolutely  necessary. 
Remember  the  promise  you  have  made  me  that  your 
bones  should  lie  by  mine  when  God  shall  please  to  call 
you,  and  leave  directions  in  your  will  about  it." 

That  promise  was  kept,  and  the  man  of  the  world 
sleeps  by  the  daughter  of  heaven,  re-united  in  the  Pem- 
brokeshire vault.  A  possibly  adopted  daughter — 
Cecilia — who  is  mentioned  in  the  greetings  of  early 
correspondents,  had  died  some  seven  years  before. 

Could  any  Calypso  replace  such  pure  devotion  ?  Yet 
Calypsos  there  had  been  already — among  their  num- 
ber the  divorced  lady  who  became  Margravine  of 
Anspach,  the  "  sweet  little  creature  qui  a  I'honneur  de 
me  plaire,"  and  whom  he  pitied ;  a  "  Madame 
Tschudy  " ;  a  "  Lady  A.,"  contrasted  by  Greville  in 
1785  with  Emma;  and,  perhaps  platonically,  those 
gifted  artists  Diana  Beauclerk,  once  Lady  Bolingbroke, 
and  Mrs.  Darner,  who  was  to  sculpture  one  of  the  two 
busts  of  Nelson  done  from  the  life.  In  England  as 
well  as  Naples  flirtation  was  the  order  of  the  day.  Yet 
about  Sir  William  there  must  have  been  a  charm  of 
demeanour,  a  calm  of  ease  and  good  nature,  and  a 
certain  worldly  unselfishness  which  could  fasten  such 
spiritual  love  more  surely  than  the  love  profane.  He 
was  a  sincere  worshipper  of  beauty,  both  in  art  and 
nature;  while  Goethe  himself  respected  his  discrim- 
inating taste.  He  was  a  Stoic-Epicurean,  a  "  philoso- 
pher." His  confession  of  faith  and  outlook  upon  ex- 
istence are  well  outlined  in  a  letter  to  Emma  of  1792 
which  deserves  attention.  "  My  study  of  antiquities 
has  kept  me  in  constant  thought  of  the  perpetual  fluctu- 
ation of  everything.  The  whole  art  is,  really,  to  live 
all  the  days  of  our  life;  and  not,  with  anxious  care, 
disturb  the  sweetest  hour  that  life  affords — which  is, 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  49 

the  present.  Admire  the  Creator,  and  all  His  works 
to  us  incomprehensible;  and  do  all  the  good  you  can 
upon  earth;  and  take  the  chance  of  eternity  without 
dismay." 

Absent  since  1778,  he  came  over  at  the  close  of  1782 
to  bury  his  wife.  It  is  just  possible  that  even  then  he 
may  have  caught  a  flying  glimpse  of  the  girl  whom  he 
was  to  style  two  years  later  "  the  fair  tea-maker  of 
Edgware  Row."  Greville,  of  course,  was  punctual  in 
condolence :  "  You  have  no  idea  how  shocked  I  was. 
.  .  .  Yet  when  I  consider  the  long  period  of  her  in- 
disposition and  the  weakness  of  her  frame,  I  ought 
to  have  been  prepared  to  hear  it.  I  am  glad  that  her 
last  illness  was  not  attended  with  extraordinary  suffer- 
ing, and  I  know  you  so  well  that  I  am  sure  you  will 
think  with  affection  and  regret,  as  often  as  the  blank 
which  must  be  felt  after  25  years  society  shall  call  her 
to  your  memory,  and  it  will  not  be  a  small  consolation 
that  to  the  last  you  shew'd  that  kindness  and  attention 
to  her  which  she  deserved.  /  have  often  quoted  you 
for  that  conduct  which  few  have  goodness  of  heart  or 
principle  to  imitate."  He  had  hoped  to  hasten  to  his 
dearest  Hamilton's  side  in  the  crisis  of  affliction,  but 
his  brother's  affairs,  the  troubles  of  trusteeships,  and 
the  bequest  by  Lord  Sea  forth  of  a  rare  cameo,  alas !  in- 
tervened, and  therefore  he  could  not  come.  So  Mount 
Vesuvius-Hamilton  hurried  to  Mahomet-Greville,  and 
doubtless,  after  a  little  virtu  and  more  business,  re- 
turned for  the  autumn  season  at  Naples  and  his  winter 
sport  at  Caserta. 

But  meanwhile  Greville  grew  ruffled  and  out-at- 
elbows.  He  was  once  more  member  for  his  family 
borough.  He  needed  larger  emolument,  yet  the  coali- 
tion was  on  the  wane.  For  a  brief  interval  it  returned, 
and  Greville  breathed  again,  pocketing  a  small  promo- 
tion in  the  general  scramble  for  office.  In  1783,  how- 


50  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

ever,  the  great  Pitt  entered  on  his  long  reign,  and  Grev- 
ille's  heart  sank  once  more.  His  post,  however,  was 
confirmed,  despite  his  conscientious  disapproval  of  re- 
forms for  England  and  for  Ireland,  and  new  India  bills 
in  the  interval.  Still,  his  tastes  were  so  various  that 
even  now  he  pondered  if,  after  all,  an  heiress  of  ton 
(none  of  your  parvenues}  were  not  the  only  way  out; 
and,  pending  decision,  he  went  on  collecting  crystals, 
exchanging  pictures  of  saints,  and  lecturing  Emma  on 
the  convenances — perhaps  the  least  extravagant  and 
most  edifying  pastime  of  all.  Every  August  he  toured 
in  Warwickshire  after  his  own,  and  to  Milford  and 
Pembrokeshire  after  his  uncle's  affairs  (for  Milford 
was  being  "  developed  ") ;  nor  was  he  the  man  to  be- 
grudge his  eleve  a  few  weeks'  change  in  the  dull  season 
during  his  absence.  In  1784  she  was  to  require  it 
more  than  usual,  for  sea-baths  had  been  ordered,  while 
her  first  thought  was  then  to  be  for  her  "  little  Emma," 
now  being  tended  at  Hawarden. 

In  the  early  summer  of  this  very  year  Sir  William 
Hamilton  had  reappeared  as  widower,  and  crossed  the 
threshold  of  Edgware  Row  to  the  flurry,  doubtless,  of 
the  little  handmaidens,  whose  successors,  "  Molly 
Dring "  and  "  Nelly  Gray,"  were  so  regularly  paid 
their  scanty  wages,  as  registered  in  the  surviving  ac- 
counts. 

The  courtly  connoisseur  was  enraptured.  Never 
had  he  beheld  anything  more  Greek,  any  one  more 
naturally  accomplished,  more  uncommon.  What  an 
old  slyboots  had  this  young  nephew  been  these  last 
two  years,  to  have  concealed  this  hidden  treasure  while 
he  detailed  everything  else  in  his  letters !  The  demure 
rogue,  then,  was  a  suburban  amateur  with  a  vengeance ! 
The  antiquarian-Apollo,  carrying  with  him  a  new  work 
on  Etruscan  vases,  and  a  new  tract  on  volcanic 
phenomena,  flattered  himself  that  here  were  volcanoes 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  51 

and  vases  indeed.  Here  were  Melpomene  and  Thalia, 
and  Terpsichore  and  Euterpe  and  Venus,  all  combined 
and  breathing.  Did  he  not  boast  the  secret  of  per- 
petual youth?  After  all,  he  was  only  fifty- four,  and 
he  looked  ten  years  younger  than  his  age.  He  would 
at  least  make  the  solemn  youngster  jealous.  Not  that 
he  was  covetous;  his  interest  was  that  of  a  father,  a 
collector,  an  uncle.  The  mere  lack  of  a  ring  debarred 
him  from  being  her  uncle  in  reality.  "  My  uncle," 
she  should  call  him. 

Greville's  amusement  was  not  quite  unclouded;  he 
laughed,  but  laughed  uneasily.  To  begin  with,  he  be- 
lieved himself  his  uncle's  heir,  but  as  yet  'twas  "  not 
so  nominated  in  the  bond."  Sir  William  might  well 
remarry.  There  was  Lord  Middleton's  second  daugh- 
ter in  Portman  Square,  a  twenty  thousand  pounder, 
weighing  on  the  scales,  a  fish  claimed  by  Greville's  own 
rod.  But  with  others,  the  Court  of  Naples,  an  alli- 
ance with  a  widower  kinsman  of  the  Hamiltons,  the 
Athols,  the  Abercorns,  and  the  Grahams,  enriched  too 
by  recent  death,  were  solidities  that  might  well  out- 
weigh his  paltry  pittance  of  six  hundred  a  year.  And 
if  the  widower  re-married? — As  for  Emma,  it  was  of 
course  absurd  to  consider  her.  She  adored  her 
Greville,  and  should  uncle  William  choose  to  play 
light  father  in  this  little  farce,  he  could  raise  no  ob- 
jection. 

Emma  herself  felt  flattered  that  one  so  celebrated 
and  learned  should  deign  to  be  just  a  nice  new  friend. 
He  was  so  amiable  and  attentive;  so  discerning  of  her 
gifts;  so  witty  too,  and  full  of  anecdote.  This  was  no 
musty  scholar,  but  a  good-natured  man  of  the  very 
wide  world,  far  wider  than  her  pent-in  corner  of  it. 
Indeed,  he  was  a  "  dear."  And  then  he  laughed  so 
heartily  when  she  mimicked  Greville's  buckram 
brother,  or  that  rich  young  coxcomb  Willoughby,  who 


52  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

had  wooed  her  in  vain  already;  no  giddy  youths  for 
her.  Was  not  her  own  matchless  Greville  a  man  of 
accomplishments,  a  bachelor  of  arts  and  sciences,  a 
master  of  sentences?  The  uncle  was  worthy  of  the 
nephew,  and  so  she  was  "  his  oblidged  humble  servant, 
or  affectionate  "  niece  "  Emma,"  whichever  he  "  liked 
the  best." 

And  in  her  heart  of  hearts  already  lurked  a  little 
scheme.  Her  child,  the  child  to  whom  Greville  had 
been  so  suddenly,  so  gently  kind,  and  after  which  she 
yearned,  was  with  her  grandmother.  After  she  had 
taken  the  tiny  companion  to  Parkgate,  and  bathed  it 
there,  why  should  not  her  divinity  permit  the  mother 
to  bring  it  home  for  good  to  Edgware  Row?  It 
would  form  a  new  and  touching  tie  between  them. 
The  plan  must  not  be  broached  till  she  could  report  on 
"  little  Emma's  "  progress,  but  surely  then  he  would 
not  have  the  heart  to  deny  her. 

Some  evidence  allows  the  guess  that  she  had 
confided  her  desire  to  Sir  William,  and  that 
he  had  favoured  and  forwarded  her  suit  with  Grev- 
ille. 

And  so  she  left  the  smoke  and  turmoil,  hopeful  and 
trustful.  Mother  and  child  would  at  length  be  re- 
united under  purer  skies  and  by  the  wide  expanse  of 
sea.  All  the  mother  within  her  stirred  and  called 
aloud ;  her  heart  was  ready  to  "  break  "  at  the  sum- 
mons. Fatherly  Sir  William  saw  her  off  as  proxy  for 
her  absent  Greville,  whom  he  was  to  join,  the  happy 
man.  "  Tell  Sir  William  everything  you  can,"  she 
wrote  immediately,  "  and  tell  him  I  am  sorry  our 
situation  prevented  me  from  giving  him  a  kiss,  .  .  . 
but  I  will  give  him  one,  and  entreat  it  if  he  will  accept 
it.  Ask  him  how  I  looked,  and  let  him  say  something 
kind  to  me  when  you  write." — "  Pray,  my  dear 
Greville,  do  lett  me  come  home  as  soon  as  you  can; 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  53 

.  .  .  indeed  I  have  no  pleasure  or  happiness.  I  wish 
I  could  not  think  on  you;  but  if  I  was  the  greatest  lady 
in  the  world,  I  should  not  be  happy  from  you;  so 
don't  lett  me  stay  long." 

Her  first  Parkgate  letters,  in  the  form  of  diaries, 
speak  for  themselves.  After  she  had  fetched  away 
little  Emma  "  Hart "  from  her  grandmother's  at 
Hawarden,  she  stopped  at  Chester.  She  had  fixed  on 
Abergele,  but  it  proved  too  distant,  fashionable,  and 
dear.  "High  Lake"  (Hoylake)  was  too  uncom- 
fortable; it  had  "  only  3  houses,"  and  not  one  of  them 
"  fit  for  a  Christian."  With  her  "  poor  Emma  "  she 
had  bidden  farewell  to  all  her  friends;  she  had  taken 
her  from  "  a  good  home  ";  she  hoped  she  would  prove 
worthy  of  his  "  goodness  to  her,  and  to  her  mother." 
Her  recipe-book  had  been  forgotten ; — "  parting  with 
you  made  me  so  unhappy." — "  My  dear  Greville,  don't 
be  angry,  but  I  gave  my  granmother  5  guineas,  for  she 
had  laid  some  [money]  out  on  her,  and  I  would  not 
take  her  awhay  shabbily.  But  Emma  shall  pay  you. 
.  .  .  My  dear  Greville,  I  wish  I  was  with  you.  God 
bless  you ! " 

By  mid- June  she  was  installed  "  in  the  house  of  a 
Laidy,  whose  husband  is  at  sea.  She  and  her  gran- 
mother  live  together,  and  we  board  with  her  at  present. 
.  .  .  The  price  is  high,  but  they  don't  lodge  anybody 
without  boarding;  and  as  it  is  comfortable,  decent, 
and  quiet,  I  thought  it  wou'd  not  ruin  us,  till  I  could 
have  your  oppionon,  which  I  hope  to  have  freely  and 
without  restraint,  as,  believe  me,  you  will  give  it  to 
one  who  will  allways  be  happy  to  follow  it,  lett  it  be 
what  it  will;  as  I  am  sure  you  wou'd  not  lead  me 
wrong.  And  though  my  little  temper  may  have  been 
sometimes  high,  believe  me,  I  have  allways  thought 
you  right  in  the  end  when  I  have  come  to  reason.  I 
bathe,  and  find  the  water  very  soult.  Here  is  a  good 


54  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

many  laidys  batheing,  but  I  have  no  society  with  them, 
as  it  is  best  not.  So  pray,  my  dearest  Greville,  write 
soon,  and  tell  me  what  to  do,  as  I  will  do  just  what 
you  think  proper ;  an d  tell  me  what  to  do  with  the  child. 
For  she  is  a  great  romp,  and  I  can  hardly  master  her. 
.  .  .  She  is  tall,  [has]  good  eys  and  brows,  and  as  to 
lashes,  she  will  be  passible;  but  she  has  overgrown  all 
her  cloaths.  I  am  makeing  and  mending  all  as  I  can 
for  her.  .  .  .  Pray,  my  dear  Greville,  do  lett  me  come 
home,  as  soon  as  you  can;  for  I  am  all  most  broken- 
hearted being  from  you.  .  .  .  You  don't  know  how 
much  I  love  you,  and  your  behaiver  to  me,  when  we 
parted,  was  so  kind,  Greville,  I  don't  know  what  to 
do.  ..."  And  her  next  epistle  seems  to  echo  under 
circumstances  far  removed  the  voice  of  the  first  Lady 
Hamilton : — "  How  teadous  does  the  time  pass  awhay 
till  I  hear  from  you.  Endead  I  should  be  miserable  if 
I  did  not  recollect  on  what  happy  terms  we  parted — 
parted,  yess,  but  to  meet  again  with  tenfould  happiness. 
.  .  .  Would  you  think  it,  Greville  ?  Emma — the  wild, 
unthinking  Emma,  is  a  grave,  thoughtful  phylosopher. 
'Tis  true,  Greville,  and  I  will  convince  you  I  am,  when 
I  see  you.  But  how  I  am  runing  on.  I  say  nothing 
abbout  this  guidy,  wild  girl  of  mine.  What  shall  we 
do  with  her,  Greville  ?  .  .  .  Wou'd  you  believe,  on  Sat- 
tarday  we  had  a  little  quarel,  .  .  .  and  I  did  slap  her 
on  her  hands,  and  when  she  came  to  kiss  me  and  make 
it  up,  I  took  her  on  my  lap  and  cried.  Pray,  do  you 
blame  me  or  not?  Pray  tell  me.  Oh,  Greville,  you 
don't  know  how  I  love  her.  Endead  I  do.  When 
she  comes  and  looks  in  my  face  and  calls  me  '  mother' 
cndead  I  then  truly  am  a  mother,  for  all  the  mother's 
feelings  rise  at  once,  and  tels  me  I  am  or  ought  to 
be  a  mother,  for  she  lias  a  ivright  to  my  protection; 
and  she  shall  have  it  as  long  as  I  can,  and  I  will  do  all 
in  my  power  to  prevent  her  falling  into  the  error  her 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  55 

poor  miserable  mother  fell  into.  But  why  do  I  say 
miserable?  Am  not  I  happy  abbove  any  of  my  sex, 
at  least  in  my  situation  ?  Does  not  Greville  love  me, 
or  at  least  like  me?  Does  not  he  protect  me?  Does 
not  he  provide  for  me  ?  Is  not  he  a  father  to  my  child  ? 
Why  do  I  call  myself  miserable?  No,  it  was  a  mis- 
take, and  I  will  be  happy,  chearful  and  kind,  and  do 
all  my  poor  abbility  will  lett  me,  to  return  the  fatherly 
goodness  and  protection  he  has  shewn.  Again,  my 
dear  Greville,  the  recollection  of  past  scenes  brings 
tears  in  my  eyes.  But  the[y]  are  tears  of  happiness. 
To  think  of  your  goodness  is  too  much.  But  once  for 
all,  Greville,  I  will  be  grateful.  Adue.  It  is  near 
bathing  time,  and  I  must  lay  down  my  pen,  and  I  won't 
finish  till  I  see  when  the  post  comes,  whether  there  is  a 
letter.  He  comes  in  abbout  one  o'clock.  I  hope  to 
have  a  letter  to-day.  ...  I  am  in  hopes  I  shall  be 
very  well.  .  .  .  But,  Greville,  I  am  oblidged  to  give  a 
shilling  a  day  for  the  bathing  horse  and  whoman,  and 
twopence  a  day  for  the  dress.  It  is  a  great  expense, 
and  it  fretts  me  when  I  think  of  it.  ...  At  any  rate 
it  is  better  than  paying  the  docter.  But  wright  your 
oppinion  truly,  and  tell  me  what  to  do.  Emma  is  cry- 
ing because  I  won't  come  and  bathe.  So  Greville,  adue 
till  after  I  have  dipt.  May  God  bless  you,  my  dear- 
est Greville,  and  believe  me,  faithfully,  affectionately, 
and  truly  yours  only." — "  And  no  letter  from  my  dear 
Greville.  Why,  my  dearest  G.,  what  is  the  reason  you 
don't  wright?  You  promised  to  wright  before  I  left 
Hawarden.  .  .  .  Give  my  dear  kind  love  and  compli- 
ments to  Pliney,1  and  tell  him  I  put  you  under  his  care, 
and  he  must  be  answereble  for  you  to  me,  wen  I  see 
him.  .  .  .  Say  everything  you  can  to  him  for  me,  and 
tell  him  I  shall  always  think  on  him  with  gratitude, 
and  remember  him  with  pleasure,  and  shall  allways 
1  Sir  W.  Hamilton. 


56  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

regret  loesing  [h]is  good  comppany.  Tell  him  I  wish 
him  every  happiness  this  world  can  afford  him,  and 
that  I  will  pray  for  him  and  bless  him  as  long  as  I  live. 
.  .  .  Pray,  my  dear  Greville,  lett  me  come  home  soon. 
I  have  been  3  weeks,  and  if  I  stay  a  fortnight  longer, 
that  will  be  5  weeks,  you  know;  and  then  the  expense 
is  above  2  guineas  a  week  with  washing  .  .  .  and 
everything.  .  .  ."  "  With  what  impatience  do  I  sett 
down  to  wright  till  I  see  the  postman.  But  sure  I  shall 
have  a  letter  to-day.  Can  you,  Greville — no,  you  can't 
— have  forgot  your  poor  Emma  allready  ?  Tho'  I  am 
but  a  few  weeks  absent  from  you,  my  heart  will  not 
one  moment  leave  you.  I  am  allways  thinking  of  you, 
and  cou'd  allmost  fancy  I  hear  you,  see  you;  .  .  . 
don't  you  remember  how  you  promised?  Don't  you 
recollect  what  you  said  at  parting?  how  you  shou'd  be 
happy  to  see  me  again?" 

A  belated  answer  arrived  at  last;  Emma  was  very 
grateful.  But  this  was  not  the  letter  for  which  she 
looked.  What  she  wanted  was  omniscience's  per- 
mission for  "  little  Emma  "  to  share  their  home,  to 
let  her  be  a  mother  indeed.  After  a  week  two  "  scold- 
ing "  notes  were  his  reply.  "  Little  Emma  "  in  Edg- 
ware  Row  was  not  on  Greville's  books  at  all.  He 
would  charge  himself  with  her  nurture  elsewhere,  but 
the  child  must  be  surrendered;  he  certainly  knew  how 
to  "  play "  his  "  trout."  Emma  meekly  kissed  her 
master's  rod.  Greville  being  Providence,  resignation 
was  wisdom  as  well  as  duty.  She  was  not  allowed 
to  remain  a  mother : — 

"  I  was  very  happy,  my  dearest  Greville,  to  hear 
from  you  as  your  other  letter  vex'd  me;  you  scolded 
me  so.  But  it  is  over,  and  I  forgive  you.  .  .  .  You 
don't  know,  my  dearest  Greville,  what  a  pleasure  I 
have  to  think  that  my  poor  Emma  will  be  comfortable 
and  happy  .  .  .  and  if  she  does  but  turn  out  well, 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  $7 

what  a  happyness  it  will  be.  And  I  hope  she  will  for 
your  sake.  I  will  teach  her  to  pray  for  you  as  long 
as  she  lives;  and  if  she  is  not  grateful  and  good  it 
won't  be  my  fault.  But  what  you  say  is  very  true :  a 
bad  disposition  may  be  made  good  by  good  example, 
and  Greville  wou'd  not  put  her  anywheer  to  have  a  bad 
one.  I  come  into  your  whay  athinking ;  hollidays  spoils 
children.  It  takes  there  attention  of[f]  from  there 
scool,  it  gives  them  a  bad  habbit.  When  they  have 
been  a  month  and  goes  back  this  does  not  pleas  them, 
and  that  is  not  wright,  and  the[y]  do  nothing  but 
think  when  the[y]  shall  go  back  again.  Now  Emma 
will  never  expect  what  she  never  had.  But  I  won't 
think.  All  my  happiness  now  is  Greville,  and  to 
think  that  he  loves  me.  ...  I  have  said  all  I  have  to 
say  about  Emma,  yet  only  she  gives  her  duty.  ...  I 
have  no  society  with  anybody  but  the  mistress  of  the 
house,  and  her  mother  and  sister.  The  latter  is  a 
very  genteel  yong  lady,  good-nattured,  and  does  every- 
thing to  pleas  me.  But  still  I  wou'd  rather  be  at 
home,  if  you  was  there.  I  follow  the  old  saying,  home 
is  home  though  'tis  ever  so  homely.  .  .  .  PS. — .  .  . 
I  bathe  Emma,  and  she  is  very  well  and  grows.  Her 
hair  will  grow  very  well  on  her  forehead,  and  I  don't 
think  her  nose  will  be  very  snub.  Her  eys  is  blue  and 
pretty.  But  she  don't  speak  through  her  nose,  but  she 
speaks  countryfied,  but  she  will  forget  it.  We  squable 
sometimes;  still  she  is  fond  of  me,  and  endead  I  love 
her.  For  she  is  sensible.  So  much  for  Beauty. 
Adue,  I  long  to  see  you."  * 

Empowered  by  the  Sultan  of  Edgware  Row,  the 
two  Emmas,  to  their  great  but  fleeting  joy,  were  suf- 

1  Morrison  MS.  128.  There  is,  of  course,  no  conclusive  evi- 
dence for  identifying  "  little  Emma "  with  the  nameless  child 
born  early  in  1782,  but  I  can  see  no  reason  otherwise,  or  for 
supposing  an  earlier  "  Emma." 


58  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

fered  to  return  in  the  middle  of  July.  Sir  William 
and  his  nephew  were  still  on  their  provincial  tour,  when 
Emma,  who  fell  ill  again  in  town,  thus  addressed 
him  for  the  last  time  before  his  own  return.  It  shall 
be  our  closing  excerpt : — 

"  I  received  your  kind  letter  last  night,  and,  my  dear- 
est Greville,  I  want  words  to  express  to  you  how 
happy  it  made  me.  For  I  thought  I  was  like  a  lost 
sheep,  and  everybody  had  forsook  me.  I  was  eight 
days  confined  to  my  room  and  very  ill,  but  am,  thank 
God,  very  well  now,  and  a  great  deal  better  for  your 
kind  instructing  letter,  and  own  the  justice  of  your 
remarks.  You  shall  have  your  appartment  to  your- 
self, you  shall  read,  wright,  or  sett  still,  just  as  you 
pleas;  for  I  shall  think  myself  happy  to  be  under  the 
seam  roof  with  Greville,  and  do  all  I  can  to  make  it 
agreable,  without  disturbing  him  in  any  pursuits  that  he 
can  follow,  to  employ  himself  in  at  home  or  else  whare. 
For  your  absence  has  taught  me  that  I  ought  to  think 
myself  happy  if  I  was  within  a  mile  of  you;  so  as  I 
cou'd  see  the  place  as  contained  you  I  shou'd  think  my- 
self happy  abbove  my  sphear.  So,  my  dear  G.,  come 
home.  .  .  .  You  shall  find  me  good,  kind,  gentle,  and 
affectionate,  and  everything  you  wish  me  to  do  I  will 
do.  For  I  will  give  myself  a  fair  trial,  and  follow 
your  advice,  for  I  allways  think  it  wright.  .  .  .  .Don't 
think,  Greville,  this  is  the  wild  fancy  of  a  moment's 
consideration.  It  is  not.  I  have  thoughroly  con- 
sidered everything  in  my  confinement,  and  say  nothing 
now  but  what  I  sliall  practice.  ...  I  have  a  deal  to 
say  to  you  when  I  see  you.  Oh,  Greville,  to  think  it  is 
9  weeks  since  I  saw  you.  I  think  I  shall  die  with  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you.  ...  I  am  all  ways  thinking  of 
your  goodness.  .  .  .  Emma  is  very  well,  and  is  allways 
wondering  why  you  don't  come  home.  She  sends  her 
duty  to  you.  .  .  .  Pray,  pray  come  as  soon  as  you 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  59 

come  to  town.     Good  by,  God  bless  you!     Oh,  how  I 
long  to  see  you." 

It  should  be  at  once  remarked  that  Greville  conscien- 
tiously performed  his  promise.  He  put  "  little 
Emma  "  to  a  good  school,  and  several  traces  of  her 
future  survive.  Meanwhile,  having  won  his  point,  and 
having  also  "  prepared  "  her  mind  for  another  separa- 
tion, of  which  she  little  dreamed,  he  came  back  to  his 
bower  of  thankful  worship  and  submissive  meekness. 
He  can  scarcely  have  played  often  with  the  child, 
whose  benefactor  he  was — a  dancing-master,  so  to 
speak,  of  beneficence,  ever  standing  in  the  first  posi- 
tion of  correct  deportment.  In  August  he  bade  fare- 
well to  his  indulgent  uncle,  whom,  indeed,  he  had  "  rea- 
son "  to  remember  with  as  much  "  gratitude  and  affec- 
tion "  as  Emma  did.  Romney  was  commissioned  to 
paint  her  as  the  "  Bacchante  "  for  the  returning  Am- 
bassador, who  had  reassured  his  nephew  about  the 
distant  future.  He  had  appointed  him  his  heir,  and 
offered  to  stand  security  if  he  needed  to  borrow.  He 
had  also  joined  Greville's  other  friends  in  advising  him 
to  bow  to  the  inevitable  and  console  his  purse  with  an 
heiress.  Whether  he  also  had  already  contemplated  an 
exchange  seems  more  than  doubtful.  But  the  secretive 
Greville  had  already  begun  to  harbour  an  idea,  soon 
turned  into  a  plan,  and  perpetually  justified  as  a  piece 
of  benevolent  unselfishness.  While  the  ship  bears  the 
unwedded  uncle  to  softer  climes  and  laxer  standards, 
while  Greville,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,,  pores  over  his 
accounts,  we  may  well  exclaim  of  these  two  knowing 
and  obliging  materialists,  par  nobile  fratrum — a  noble 
brace  of  brothers  indeed ! 


CHAPTER  III 

"  WHAT  GOD,  AND  GREVILLE,  PLEASES  " 

To  March,  1786 

*'"¥"  REALY  do  not  feel  myself  in  a  situation  to 
accept  favours."  "  I  depend  on  you  for  some 

-*•  cristals  in  lavas,  etc.,  from  Sicily."  These 
sentences  from  two  long  epistles  to  his  uncle  at  the 
close  of  1784  are  keynotes  to  Greville's  tune  of  mind. 
With  the  new  year  he  became  rather  more  explicit : — • 
"  Emma  is  very  grateful  for  your  remembrance.  Her 
picture  shall  be  sent  by  the  first  ship — I  wish  Romney 
yet  to  mend  the  dog.1  She  certainly  is  much  improved 
since  she  has  been  with  me.  She  has  none  of  the  bad 
habits  which  giddiness  and  inexperience  encouraged, 
and  which  bad  choice  of  company  introduced.  ...  I 
am  sure  she  is  attached  to  me,  or  she  would  not  have 
refused  the  offers  which  I  know  have  been  great ;  and 
such  is  her  spirit  that  on  the  least  slight  or  expression 
of  my  being  tired  or  burthened  by  her,  I  am  sure  she 
would  not  only  give  up  the  connexion,  but  would  not 
even  accept  a  farthing  for  future  assistance." 

Here  let  us  pause  a  moment.  In  the  "  honest  bar- 
gain "  shortly  to  be  struck  after  much  obliquity, 
Greville's  shabbiness  consists,  if  we  reflect  on  the  pre- 
vailing tone  of  his  age  and  set,  not  so  much  in  the  dis- 
guised transfer — a  mean  trick  in  itself — as  in  the  fact 

1  In  the  first  picture  of  the  "  Bacchante."  Some  trace  of  a  goat 
as  well  as  of  a  dog  figures  in  all  the  known  versions. 

60 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  61 

that,  while  he  had  no  reproach  to  make  and  was  avow- 
edly more  attached  to  her  than  ever,  he  practised  upon 
the  very  disinterestedness  and  fondness  that  he  praised. 
Had  he  been  unable  to  rely  on  them  with  absolute  confi- 
dence, so  wary  a  strategist  would  scarcely  have  ven- 
tured on  the  attempt,  since  his  future  prospects  largely 
depended  on  her  never  disadvantaging  him  with  Sir 
William.  That  she  never  did  so,  even  in  the  first  burst 
of  bitter  disillusion;  that  she  always,  and  zealously, 
advocated  his  interests,  redounds  to  her  credit  and 
proves  her  magnanimity.  A  revengeful  woman,  whose 
love  and  self-love  had  been  wounded  to  the  quick, 
might  have  ruined  him,  as  the  censor  of  Paddington 
was  well  aware.  That  he  continued  to  approve  his  part 
in  these  delicate  negotiations  is  shown  by  the  fact  of 
preserving  these  letters  after  they  came  into  his  pos- 
session as  his  uncle's  executor.  He  never  ceased  to  pro- 
test that  his  motives  in  the  transaction  were  for  her  own 
ultimate  good.  He  was  not  callous,  but  he  was  Jesuit- 
ical. Let  him  pursue  his  scattered  hints  further : — 

"  This  is  another  part  of  my  situation.  If  I  was  in- 
dependent I  should  think  so  little  of  any  other  con- 
nexion that  I  never  would  marry.  I  have  not  an  idea 
of  it  at  present,  but  if  any  proper  opportunity  offer'd 
I  shou'd  be  much  harassed,  not  know  how  to  manage, 
or  how  to  fix  Emma  to  her  satisfaction;  and  to  forego 
the  reasonable  plan  which  you  and  my  friends  ad- 
vised is  not  right.  I  am  not  quite  of  an  age  to  re- 
tire from  bustle,  and  to  retire  into  distress  and  poverty 
is  worse.  I  can  keep  on  here  creditably  this  winter. 
The  offer  I  made  of  my  pictures  is  to  get  rid  of  the 
Humberston  engagements  which  I  told  you  of.  I  have 
a  £1000  ready  and  1000  to  provide.  I  therefore  am 
making  money.  If  Ross  will  take  in  payment  from 
me  my  bond  with  your  security,  I  shall  get  free  from 
Humberston  affairs  entirely,  and  be  able  to  give  them 


62  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

up.  It  is  indifferent  to  me  whether  what  I  value  is  in 
your  keeping  or  mine.  I  will  deposit  with  you  gems 
which  you  shall  value  at  above  that  sum.  ...  It  will 
be  on  that  condition  I  will  involve  you,  for  favor  I  take 
as  favor,  and  business  as  business." 

His  subsequent  communications  dole  out  the  grow- 
ing plot  by  degrees  and  approaches;  he  works  by  sap 
and  mine.  In  March,  1785,  after  discussing  politics 
at  large,  he  doubts  if  his  uncle's  "  heart  or  his  feet  " 
are  "  the  lightest."  He  compliments  him  on  his  energy 
in  sport,  flirtation,  and  friendship — "  quests  "  not  "  in- 
compatible "  in  "  a  good  heart."  He  moots  his  design 
in  the  light  of  Hamilton's  welfare.  "  He  must  be  a 
very  interested  friend  indeed  who  does  not  sincerely 
wish  everything  that  can  give  happiness  to  a  friend." 
He  is  convinced  that  each  of  them  can  sincerely  judge 
for  the  other.  He  does  not,  of  course,  venture  to 
"  suppose  "  an  "  experiment  "  for  the  diplomatist ;  but 
he  himself  has  made  the  happiest  though  a  "  limited  " 
experiment,  which,  however,  "  from  poverty  .  .  .  can- 
not last " ;  his  poverty  but  not  his  will  consents.  And 
then  he  opens  the  scheme.  "  If  you  did  not  chuse  a 
wife,  I  wish  the  tea-maker  of  Edgware  Rowe  was 
yours,  if  I  could  without  banishing  myself  from  a  visit 
to  Naples.  I  do  not  know  how  to  part  with  what  I 
am  not  tired  with.  I  do  not  know  how  to  go  on,  and 
I  give  her  every  merit  of  prudence  and  moderation  and 
affection.  She  shall  never  ^vant,  and  if  I  decide  sooner 
than  I  am  forced  to  stop  by  necessity,  it  will  be  that  I 
may  give  her  part  of  my  pittance;  and,  if  I  do  so  it 
must  be  by  sudden  resolution  and  by  putting  it  out  of 
her  power  to  refuse  it  for  I  know  her  disinterestedness 
to  be  such  that  she  will  rather  encounter  any  difficulty 
than  distress  me.  I  should  not  write  to  you  thus,  if  I 
did  not  think  you  seem'd  as  partial  as  I  am  to  her.  She 
would  not  hear  at  once  of  any  change,  and  from  no 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  63 

one  that  was  not  liked  by  her.  I  think  I  could  secure 
on  her  near  £100  a  year.  It  is  more  than  in  justice 
to  all  I  can  do;  but  with  parting  with  part  of  my  virtu, 
I  can  secure  it  to  her  and  content  myself  with  the  re- 
mainder. I  think  you  might  settle  another  on  her. 
...  I  am  not  a  dog  in  the  manger.  If  I  could  go  on 
I  would  never  make  this  arrangement,  but  to  be  re- 
duced to  a  standstill  and  involve  myself  in  distress 
further  than  I  could  extricate  myself,  and  then  to  be 
unable  to  provide  for  her  at  all,  would  make  me  mis- 
erable from  thinking  myself  unjust  to  her.  And  as 
she  is  too  young  and  handsome  to  retire  into  a  con- 
vent or  the  country,  and  is  honorable  and  honest  and 
can  be  trusted,  after  reconciling  myself  to  the  neces- 
sity I  consider  where  she  could  be  happy.  I  know  you 
thought  me  jealous  of  your  attention  to  her;  I  can  as- 
sure you  her  conduct  entitles  her  more  than  ever  to 
my  confidence.  Judge,  then,  as  you  know  my  satisfac- 
tion in  looking  on  a  modern  piece  of  virtu,  if  I  do  not 
think  you  a  second  self,  in  thinking  that  by  placing  her 
within  your  reach,  I  render  a  necessity  which  would 
otherwise  be  heartbreaking  tolerable  and  even  com- 
forting." 

Havdng  prepared  the  ground,  he  wrote  again  in  the 
following  May,  "  without  affectation  or  disguise." 
Delicacy  had  prevented  him  from  writing  about  "  Lady 
C  [raven]  "  who,  Hamilton's  friends  were  glad  to 
learn,  had  departed.  Would  not  all  of  them  prefer  one 
like  Emma?  The  "  odds  "  in  their  own  two  lives  were 
not  "  proportioned  to  the  difference  "  of  their  years;  he 
was  very  "  sensible  "  of  his  uncle's  intentions  towards 
him.  At  what  followed  Sir  William  must  have  smiled. 

The  real  reason  for  all  his  fencing  emerges.  Sir 
William's  joint  security  on  the  pledge  of  half  his 
minerals,  the  assurance  that  he  was  made  his  heir, 
were  mere  credentials  to  be  shown  by  Greville  to  a 


64  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

prospective  father-in-law.  "  Suppose  a  lady  of  30,000 
was  to  marry  me,"  and  so  forth — a  vista  of  married 
fortune.  Even  now  the  name  of  the  lady  thus  hon- 
oured was  withheld;  but  Hamilton  must  have  known  it 
perfectly:  ".  .  .  If  you  dislike  my  frankness,  I  shall 
be  sorry,  for  it  cost  me  a  little  to  throw  myself  so  open, 
and  to  no  one's  friendship  could  I  have  trusted  myself 
but  to  yours,  from  which  I  have  ever  been  treated 
with  indulgence  and  preference." 

A  month  more  and  he  disclosed  a  positive,  if 
"  distant  and  imperfect,"  prospect.  Lord  Middleton's 
youngest  daughter  was  the  favoured  lady — in  the 
"  requisites  of  beauty  and  disposition,"  "  beyond  the 
mark  for  a  younger  brother."  The  die  was  cast;  he 
penned  a  formal  proposal  to  her  father.  It  may  be 
gathered  that  the  lady  rejected  him;  Greville  certainly 
never  married.  Often  and  often  he  must  have  wished 
his  poor  and  unfashionable  Emma  back  again,  when 
she  was  poor  and  unfashionable  no  longer:  his  amour 
propre  had  been  hurt,  and,  till  he  became  vice-cham- 
berlain in  1794,  to  Lady  Hamilton's  genuine  pleasure,1 
his  fortunes  drooped. 

Greville's  tentatives  were  now  at  an  end.  At  length 
he  laid  a  plain  outline  before  Sir  William : — "  If  you 

1  Cf .  her  letter  of  congratulation  (Sept.  16,  1794),  Morrison 
MS.  246,  in  answer  to  his  letter  of  August  18  announcing  his 
good  fortune  and  claiming  the  approbation  of  such  friends  as 
herself,  as  the  best  reward  for  one  who  plumes  himself  on 
friendship  [Nelson  Letters  (1814),  vol.  i.  p.  265]:  "I  should 
not  flatter  myself  so  far,"  he  writes,  "if  I  was  not  very 
sincerely  interested  in  }-our  happiness  and  ever  affectionately 
yours."  "  I  congratulate  you,"  she  answers,  "  with  all  my  heart 
on  your  appointment.  .  .  .  You  have  well  merited  it;  and  all 
your  friends  must  be  happy  at  a  change  so  favourable  not  only 
for  your  pecuniary  circumstances,  as  for  the  honner  of  the 
situation.  May  you  long  enjoy  it  with  every  happiness  that  you 
deserve !  I  speak  from  my  heart.  I  don't  know  a  better,  hon- 
ester,  or  more  amiable  and  worthy  man  than  yourself;  and  if  is 
a  great  deal  for  me  to  say  this,  for,  whatever  I  think,  I  am 
not  apt  to  pay  compliments." 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  65 

could  form  a  plan  by  which  you  could  have  a  trial,  and 
could  invite  her  and  tell  her  that  I  ought  not  to  leave 
England,  and  that  I  cannot  afford  to  go  on ;  and  state 
it  as  a  kindness  to  me  if  she  would  accept  your  invita- 
tion, she  would  go  with  pleasure.  She  is  to  be  six 
weeks  at  some  bathing  place ;  and  when  you  could  write 
an  answer  to  this,  and  inclose  a  letter  to  her,  I  could 
manage  it ;  and  either  by  land,  by  the  coach  to  Geneva, 
and  from  thence  by  Veturine  forward  her,  or  else  by 
sea.  I  must  add  that  I  could  not  manage  it  so  well 
later;  after  a  month,  and  absent  from  me,  she  would 
consider  the  whole  more  calmly.  If  there  was  in  the 
world  a  person  she  loved  so  well  as  yourself  after  me, 
I  could  not  arrange  with  so  much  sang-froid;  and  I  am 
sure  I  would  not  let  her  go  to  you,  if  any  risque  of  the 
usual  coquetry  of  the  sex  being  likely  to  give  uneasi- 
ness or  appearance.  .  .  ." 

Sir  William's  "  invitation  "  was  to  be  perfectly  in- 
nocent. She  was  to  understand  that  her  dear  Greville's 
interest  demanded  a  temporary  separation;  that  she  and 
her  mother  would  be  honoured  guests  at  the  Naples 
Embassy;  that  she  could  improve  the  delightful  change 
of  scene  and  climate  by  training  her  musical  gifts  un- 
der the  best  masters,  by  studying  the  arts  in  their 
motherland,  by  learning  languages  amid  a  cosmopol- 
itan crowd ;  that  by  October  her  fairy-prince  would  re- 
appear, and,  like  another  Orpheus,  bring  back  his  Eu- 
rydice.  And  all  this  she  was  to  be  told,  after  absence, 
that  makes  the  heart  grow  fonder,  had  inured  her  to 
separation,  softened  her  heart  to  self-sacrifice,  and 
reconciled  her  to  his  lightest  bidding — when,  in  short, 
it  would  be  easiest  to  practise  on  devotion.  About 
these  machinations  Emma  was  presumably  left  in  the 
dark;  their  windings  took  place  behind  her  back.  Her 
all-wise,  all-powerful  and  tender  Greville  could  never 
consult  but  for  her  good,  while  his  real  unselfishness 


66  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

towards  the  child  forbade  any  suspicion  of  his  pur- 
pose. 

To  Emma  his  prim  platitudes  were  the  loving  elo- 
quence of  Romeo.  And  for  the  last  few  months  he 
had  been  always  preaching  up  to  her  the  spotless  ex- 
ample of  a  certain  "  Mrs.  Wells,"  refined  and  accom- 
plished, who,  in  Emma's  own  situation,  had  earned  and 
kept  both  her  own  self-respect  and  that  of  more  than 
one  successive  admirer;  who  had  learned  the  art  of  re- 
taining the  lover  as  friend,  while  she  accepted  his  friend 
as  lover.  These  innuendoes  may  well  have  puzzled 
her.  Had  she  not  realised  a  dream  of  constancy,  and 
could  that  pass  ?  Had  she  not  parted  with  the  child  she 
loved  to  please  the  man  of  her  heart,  and  fasten  his 
faith  to  hers?  Yet  all  the  time  her  dearest  Greville 
could  speak  of  "  forwarding  "  her,  just  as  if  she  were 
one  of  those  crystals  on  which  he  doted. 

The  fact  was  that,  added  to  his  embarrassments,  his 
need  for  fortune  with  a  wife,  his  wish  at  once  to  oblige 
Sir  William  and  to  preclude  him  from  wedlock,  his 
genuine  desire — which  must  be  granted — to  provide 
for  Emma's  future,  arose  the  feeling  that  Emma  her- 
self was  now  too  fond.  It  was  hard  to  resign  her; 
but,  unless  the  choice  was  quickly  made,  it  might  be- 
come impossible  ever  to  make  it ;  and  he  might  be  en- 
tangled into  a  marriage  which  would  hold  him  up  to 
ridicule. 

But  for  once  Greville  was  in  haste.  Sir  William, 
always  leisurely,  took  time  before  he  began  to  broach 
a  scheme  of  life  which  filled  his  nephew  with  alarm. 
Greville  had  never  doubted  that,  should  his  will  pre- 
vail with  Emma  as  well  as  with  his  uncle,  the  latter 
would  sequester  her  in  one  of  his  villas  near  Naples — 
some  Italian  Edgware  Row.  His  mind  recoiled  from 
the  awful  thought  that  she  might  ever  dispense  the 
honours  of  the  Embassy.  The  Ambassador,  however, 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  67 

could  not  agree.  He  had  discerned  powers  in  this 
singular  woman  passing  Greville's  vision,  and  the  con- 
noisseur longed  to  call  them  forth  and  create  a  work  of 
art.  He  lived,  too,  in  a  land  where  the  convenances 
were  not  so  rigid  as  in  his  own.  Did  not  the  bonne 
amie  of  a  distinguished  diplomat  and  Knight  of  Malta 
grace  his  Roman  house  and  circle  ? 

Illness  also  made  for  postponement.  When  Greville 
returned  to  town  after  his  summer  outing,  he  found 
Emma,  fresh  from  her  sea-baths,  "  alarmed  and  dis- 
tress'd  "  over  her  mother's  "  paralysis."  "  It  was  not 
so  severe  an  attack,"  he  told  his  uncle  in  November, 
"  as  I  understood  it  to  be  when  I  informed  you  of  it 
from  Cornwall.  .  .  .  You  may  suppose  that  I  did  not 
increase  Emma's  uneasiness  by  any  hint  of  the  subject 
of  our  correspondence  " ;  "  at  any  rate,"  he  sighs,  "  it 
cannot  take  place,  and  she  goes  on  so  well,  .  .  .  and 
also  improv'd  in  looks,  that  I  own  it  is  less  agreeable 
to  part;  yet  I  have  no  other  alternative  but  to  marry, 
or  remain  a  pauper ;  I  shall  persist  in  my  resolution  not 
to  lose  an  opportunity  if  I  can  find  it,  and  do  not  think 
that  my  idea  of  sending  her  to  Naples  on  such  an  event 
arises  from  my  consulting  my  convenience  only.  I 
can  assure  you  she  would  not  have  a  scarcity  of  offers; 
she  has,  refused  great  ones;  but  I  am  sure  she  would 
prefer  a  foreign  country.  ...  I  know  that  confidence 
and  good  usage  will  never  be  abused  by  her,  and  that 
nothing  can  make  her  giddy.  I  was  only  ten  days 
with  her  when  I  was  call'd  away  to  be  Mayor  of  War- 
wick; it  was  not  kindly  meant,  but  it  will  turn  out 
well.  I  have  been  at  the  castle;  I  have  put  myself  on 
good  terms  with  my  brother,  and  I  think  I  shall  keep 
him  passive,  if  not  interested  for  me  in  the  bor- 
ough. .  .  ." 

It  was  not,  therefore,  Emma  only  who  had  grown 
"  much  more  considerate  and  amiable."  Lord  War- 
Memoirs — Vol.  14 — 3 


68  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

wick  must  be  enlisted  if  Greville  was  to  "  stand  high 
with  both  parties,"  and  urge  them  into  competition  for 
his  services,  as  he  gravely  proceeded  to  inform  his 
uncle. 

December  brought  Sir  William's  offer,  and  with  it 
matured  Greville's  plans  for  the  March  ensuing.  He 
would  visit  Scotland  to  retrench  and  profit  by  the  lec- 
tures of  Edinburgh  dominies,  while  his  "  minerals  " 
would  remain  his,  thanks  to  Hamilton's  generosity; 
Emma,  she  was  assured,  for  a  while  only,  would  repair 
to  Naples  chaperoned  by  her  mother,  and  the  pleasant 
Gavin  Hamilton,  Romeward  bound.  All  of  them  were 
to  be  couriered  so  far  as  Geneva  by  the  Swiss  Dejean ; 
at  Geneva  Sir  William's  man  Vincenzo — still  his  faith- 
ful servant  in  Nelson's  day — would  meet  the  party. 
For  six  months  only  Emma  could  cease  her  own  course 
of  incomparable  lectures  at  Edgvvare  Row;  and  a 
brief  absence  alone  reconciled  her  to  severance.  A 
charming  visit  was  to  hasten  a  welcome  re-union. 

".  .  .  The  absolute  necessity,"  explains  the  casuist 
once  more,  "  of  reducing  every  expence  to  enable  me 
to  have  enough  to  exist  on,  and  to  pay  the  interest  of 
my  debt  without  parting  ivith  my  collection  of  min- 
erals, which  is  not  yet  in  a  state  of  arrangement  which 
would  set  it  off  to  its  greatest  advantage,  occasion'd 
my  telling  Emma,"  with  sudden  artlessness,  "  that  I 
should  be  obliged  on  business  to  absent  myself  for 
some  months  in  Scotland.  She  naturally  said  that  such 
a  separation  would  be  very  like  a  total  separation,  for 
that  she  should  be  very  miserable  during  my  absence, 
and  that  she  should  neither  profit  by  my  conversation 
nor  improve  in  any  degree,  that  my  absence  would  be 
more  tolerable  if  she  had  you  to  comfort  her,  .  .  . 
as  there  was  not  a  person  in  the  world  whom' she  could 
be  happy  with,  if  I  was  dead,  but  yourself,  and  that  she 
certainly  would  profit  of  your  kind  offer,  if  I  should 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  69 

die  or  slight  her  " — two  equally  improbable  alternatives 
in  Emma's  purview.  "...  I  told  her  that  /  should 
have  no  objection  to  her  going  to  Naples  for  6  or  & 
months,  and  that  if  she  really  wish'd  it  I  would  for- 
ward any  letter  she  wrote.  .  .  .  That  she  would  not 
fear  being  troublesome,  as  she  would  be  perfectly  satis- 
fied with  the  degree  of  attention  you  should  from 
choice  give  her,  and  that  she  should  be  very  happy  in 
learning  music,  Italian,  etc.,  while  your  avocations  im- 
ploy'd  you.  ...  I  told  her  that  she  would  be  so  happy 
that  I  should  be  cut  out,  and  she  said  that  if  I  did  not 
come  for  her,  or  neglected  her,  she  would  certainly  be 
grateful  to  you;  but  that  neither  interest  nor  affection 
should  ever  induce  her  to  change,  unless  my  interest 
or  wish  required  it." 

It  should  be  noted  that  the  previous  sentences 
about  Emma's  alternatives  are  contradicted  by  those 
which  set  her  down  as  only  to  be  weaned  from 
Greville  by  becoming  a  willing  sacrifice  to  his  "  in- 
terest." 

Enclosed  was  Emma's  own  missive.  "  Embold- 
ened "  by  Sir  William's  kindness  when  he  was  in  Eng- 
land, she  recapitulated  the  circumstances.  Greville, 
"  whom  you  know  I  love  tenderly,"  is  obliged  to  go 
for  four  or  five  months  in  the  "  sumer  "  "  to  places 
that  I  cannot  with  propriety  attend  him  to  " — here 
surely  it  is  Greville  who  dictates?  She  has  too  great 
a  "  regard  for  him  to  hinder  him  from  pursuing  those 
plans  which,"  she  thinks,  "  it  is  right  for  him  to  fol- 
low." As  Hamilton  was  so  good  as  to  encourage  her, 
she  "  will  speak  her  mind."  Firstly,  she  would  be 
glad  "  to  be  a  little  more  improv'd,"  and  Greville 
"  out  of  kindness  "  had  offered  to  dispense  with  her  for 
the  few  months  at  the  close  of  which  he  would  come  to 
"  fetch  "  her  home,  and  stay  a  while  there  when  he 
comes,  "  which  I  know  you  will  be  glad  to  see  him." 


70  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

He  therefore  proposed  the  ist  of  March  for  his  own 
departure  northward  and  hers  to  the  south.  She 
would  be  "  flattered  "  if  Hamilton  will  "  allot  "  her  an 
apartment  in  "  his  house,"  "  and  lett  Greville  occupye 
those  appartments  when  he  comes ;  you  know  that  must 
be ;  but  as  your  house  is  very  large,  and  you  must,  from 
the  nature  of  your  office,  have  business  to  transact  and 
visiters  to  see," — here  Greville  dictates  again — "  I  shall 
always  keep  my  own  room  when  you  are  better  en- 
gaged, and  at  other  times  I  hope  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  your  company  and  conversation,  which  will  be  more 
agreable  to  me  than  anything  in  Italy.  As  I  have 
given  you  an  example  of  sincerity,  I  hope  you  will  be 
equaly  candid  and  sincere  in  a  speedy  answer.  ...  I 
shall  be  perfectly  happy  in  any  arrangements  you  will 
make,  as  I  have  full  confidence  in  your  kindness  and 
attention  to  me.  .  .  ." 

The  imist  in  this  letter  leaves  no  doubt  that  the  per- 
manence of  separation  never  crossed  her  mind. 
Greville's  crystals,  however,  required  a  sacrifice,  which 
for  him  she  prided  herself  on  making. 

On  April  26 — her  birthday — she  duly  arrived  at  the 
Palazzo  Sessa.1  But  she  at  once  felt  wretched  away 
from  the  man  she  loved, and  her  sole  comfort  lay  in  for- 
warding his  interest.  "  It  was  my  birthday,  and  I  was 
very  low  spirited.  Oh  God!  that  day  that  you  used 
to  smile  on  me  and  stay  at  home,  and  be  kind  to  me — 
that  that  day  I  shou'd  be  at  such  a  distance  from  you ! 
But  my  comfort  is  that  I  rely  upon  your  promise,  and 
September  or  October  I  shall  see  you !  But  I  am  quite 
unhappy  at  not  hearing  from  you — no  letter  for  me 
yet,  .  .  .  but  I  must  wait  with  patience."  "  I 
dreaded,"  she  continued  later,  "  setting  down  to  write, 
for  I  try  to  appear  as  chearful  before  Sir  William  as 
I  could,  and  I  am  sure  to  cry  the  moment  I  think  of 
*Then  the  Embassy. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  71 

you.1  For  I  feel  more  and  more  unhappy  at  being 
separated  from  you,  and  if  my  fatal  ruin  depends  on 
seeing  you,  I  will  and  must  at  the  end  of  the  sumer. 
For  to  live  without  you  is  impossible.  I  love  you  to 
that  degree  that  at  this  time  there  is  not  a  hardship 
upon  hearth  either  of  poverty,  cold,  death,  or  even 
to  walk  barefooted  to  Scotland  to  see  you,  but  what  I 
wou'd  undergo.  Therefore  my  dear,  dear  Greville, 
if  you  do  love  me,  for  my  sake,  try  all  you  can  to 
come  hear  as  soon  as  possible.  You  have  a  true  friend 
in  Sir  William,  and  he  will  be  happy  to  see  you,  and 
do  all  he  can  to  make  you  happy ;  and  for  me  I  will  be 
everything  you  can  wish  for.  I  find  it  is  not  either 
a  fine  horse,  or  a  fine  coach,  or  a  pack  of  servants,  or 
plays  or  operas,  can  make  [me]  happy.  It  is  you 
that  [h]as  it  in  your  power  either  to  make  me  very 
happy  or  very  miserable.  I  respect  Sir  William,  I 
have  a  great  regard  for  him,  as  the  uncle  and  friend 
of  you,  and  he  loves  me,  Greville.  But  he  can  never 
be  anything  nearer  to  me  than  your  uncle  and  my 
sincere  friend.  He  never  can  be  my  lover.  You  do 
not  know  how  good  Sir  William  is  to  me.  He  is  do- 
ing everything  he  can  to  make  me  happy.  .  .  ." 

Her  inmost  soul  speaks  in  these  sentences.  They 
ring  true,  and  are  without  question  outpourings  of  the 
heart  on  paper  bedewed  with  tears.  Sir  William  was 
indeed  kind.  He  wanted  to  wean  her  from  one  who 
could  thus  have  treated  her.  He  was  never  out  of  her 
sight.  He  gazed  on  her;  he  sighed;  he  praised  her 

1  Sir  William  had  divined  this  probability  the  day  before  she 
arrived : — "  However.  I  will  do  as  well  as  I  can  and  hobble  in 
and  out  of  this  pleasant  scrape  as  decently  as  I  can.  You  may 
be  assured  I  will  comfort  her  for  the  loss  of  you  as  well  as  I 
am  able,  but  I  know,  from  the  small  specimens  during  your 
absence  from  London,  that  I  shall  have  at  times  many  tears  to 
wipe  from  those  charming  eyes." — Morrison  MS.  149,  April  25, 
1786. 


72  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

every  movement.  He  gave  her  presents  and  showed 
her  all  that  romantic  antiquity  which  he  loved,  under- 
stood, and  explained  so  well.  She  had  gazed  on  Posi- 
lippo,  and  was  to  revel  in  the  villino  at  Caserta  and 
the  Posilippo  villa,  which  soon  bore  her  name.  But 
carriage  and  liveries,  "  like  those  of  Mrs.  Darner," 
who  had  just  left,  a  private  boat,  and  baths  under 
summer  skies  in  summer  seas — all  these  availed  nothing 
with  Greville  absent.  Her  apartment  was  of  four 
rooms  fronting  that  enchanted  bay.  The  Ambassa- 
dor's friends  dined  with  her,  and  she  sang  for  them : — 
"  Yes,  last  night  we  had  a  little  concert.  But  then  I 
was  so  low,  for  I  wanted  you  to  partake  of  our  amuse- 
ment. Sir  Thomas  Rumbold  is  here  with  [h]is  son 
who  is  dying  of  a  decline,  .  .  .  and  poor  young  man ! 
he  cannot  walk  from  the  bed  to  the  chair;  and  Lady 
Rumbold,  like  a  tender-hearted  wretch,  is  gone  to 
Rome,  to  pass  her  time  there  with  the  English,  and 
[h]as  took  the  coach  and  all  the  English  servants  with 
her,  and  left  poor  Sir  Thomas,  with  [h]is  heart  broken, 
waiting  on  [h]is  sick  son.  You  can't  think  what  a 
worthy  man  he  is.  He  dined  with  ous,  and  likes  me 
very  much,  and  every  day  [h]as  brought  [h]is  car- 
riage or  phaeton  .  .  .  and  carries  me  and  mother 
and  Sir  William  out."  None  the  less  her  heart  stays 
with  Greville.  She  is  always  helping  him  with  Sir 
William,  whose  good  zvill  (in  both  senses  of  that  word) 
makes  her  "  very  happy  for  his  sake.  .  .  .  But 
Greville,  my  dear  Greville,  wright  some  comfort  to 
me."  "  Only  remember  your  promise  of  October." 
This  delusive  October  must  have  hung  over  Greville's 
head  like  a  sword  of  Damocles,  or  Caesar's  inevitable 
Ides  of  March. 

The  sensation  of  Emma's  first  appearance  in  the  kal- 
eidoscope of  Naples,  with  its  King  of  the  Lazzaroni 
and  Queen  of  the  Illuminati,  together  with  the  con- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  73 

junctures  of  affairs  and  men  first  witnessed  by  her, 
will  find  place  in  the  next  chapter.  It  was  not  many 
months  before  she  was  to  exclaim  to  Greville,  "  You 
do  not  know  what  power  I  have  hear  " ;  before  Acton, 
the  Premier,  was  to  rally  Sir  William  on  "  a  worthy 
and  charming  young  lady."  But  now  and  here  the 
climax  of  her  emotions,  when  she  first  fully  realised 
Greville's  breach  of  faith  and  his  real  purpose  in  ex- 
iling her,  must  be  reached  without  interruption.  Even 
on  the  first  of  May,  when  his  uncle  told  her  in  reply 
to  her  solicitude  for  Greville's  welfare,  that  she  might 
command  anything  from  one  who  loved  them  both  so 
dearly,  "  I  have  had  a  conversation  this  morning,"  she 
wrote,  "  with  Sir  William  that  has  made  me  mad. 
He  speaks — no,  I  do  not  know  what  to  make  of  it." 

Three  months  went  by,  and  still  no  letter  came,  ex- 
cept one  to  tell  her  how  grateful  was  the  nephew  for 
the  uncle's  care ;  and  still  Sir  William  looked  and  lan- 
guished. The  truth  began  to  dawn  upon  her,  but  even 
now  she  dare  not  face,  and  would  not  believe  it.  At  the 
close  of  July,  when  Naples  drowses  and  melts  in  dreamy 
haze,  she  made  her  last  and  piteous,  though  spirited, 
appeal.  "  I  am  now  onely  writing  to  beg  of  you  for 
God's  sake  to  send  me  one  letter,  if  it  is  onely  a  fare- 
well. Sure  I  have  deserved  this  for  the  sake  of  the 
love  you  once  had  for  me.  .  .  .  Don't  despise  me.  I 
have  not  used  you  ill  in  any  one  thing.  I  have  been 
from  you  going  of  six  months,  and  you  have  wrote 
one  letter  to  me,  enstead  of  which  I  have  sent  fourteen 
to  you.  So  pray  let  me  beg  of  you,  my  much  loved 
Greville,  only  one  line  from  your  dear,  dear  hands. 
You  don't  know  how  thankful  I  shall  be  for  it.  For 
if  you  knew  the  misery  I  feel,  oh!  your  heart  wou'd 
not  be  intirely  shut  up  against  me ;  for  I  love  you  with 
the  truest  affection.  Don't  let  any  body  sett  you 
against  me.  Some  of  your  friends — your  foes  per- 


74  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

haps,  I  don't  know  what  to  stile  them — have  long  wisht 
me  ill.  But,  Greville,  you  never  will  meet  with  anyr 
body  that  has  a  truer  affection  for  you  than  I  have, 
and  I  onely  wish  it  was  in  my  power  to  shew  you  what 
I  cou'd  do  for  you.  As  soon  as  I  know  your  deter- 
mination, I  shall  take  my  own  measures.  If  I  don't 
hear  from  you,  and  that  you  are  coming  according  to 
promise,  I  shall  be  in  England  at  Cristmass  at  farthest. 
Don't  be  unhappy  at  that,  I  will  see  you  once  more  for 
the  last  time.  I  find  life  is  insupportable  without  you. 
Oh !  my  heart  is  intirely  broke.  Then  for  God's  sake, 
my  ever  dear  Greville,  do  write  to  me  some  comfort. 
I  don't  know  what  to  do.  I  am  now  in  that  state,  I 
am  incapable  of  anything.  I  have  a  language-master, 
•a  singing-master,  musick,  etc.,  but  what  is  it  for?  If 
it  was  to  amuse  you,  I  shou'd  be  happy.  But,  Greville, 
what  will  it  avail  me?  I  am  poor,  helpless,  and  for- 
lorn. I  have  lived  with  you  5  years,  and  you  have 
sent  me  to  a  strange  place,  and  no  one  prospect  but 
thinking  you  was  coming  to  me.  Instead  of  which  I 
was  told.  .  .  .  No,  I  respect  him,  but  no,  never.  .  .  . 
What  is  to  become  of  me  ?  But  excuse  me,  my  heart  is 
ful.  I  tel  you  give  me  one  guiney  a  week  for  every- 
thing, and  live  with  me,  and  I  will  be  contented. 
But  no  more.  I  will  trust  to  Providence,  and  wherever 
you  go,  God  bless  you,  and  preserve  you,  and  may  you 
allways  be  happy !  But  write  to  Sir  William.  What 
[h]as  he  done  to  affront  you?  "  1 

She  awaited  Greville's  orders.  Sir  William  had 
commissioned  still  another  portrait  of  her  from  Rom- 
ney ;  "  Angelaca  "  was  about  to  paint  her ;  she  was 
"  so  remarkably  fair  "  that  "  everybody  "  said  she 
"  put  on  red  and  white  " ;  Lord  Hervey  was  her  slave ; 
a  foreign  prince  was  in  her  train  each  evening;  the 
king  was  "  sighing  "  for  her.  It  was  Greville's  orders 
1  Morrison  MS.  152,  July  22,  1786. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  75 

for  which  she  waited.  She  had  just  visited  Pompeii 
and  viewed  the  wrecks  of  love  and  bloom  and  life  un- 
earthed by  alien  hands.  Was  here  no  moral  for  this 
distraught  and  heaving  bosom?  And  there  that  awful 
mountain  lowered  and  threatened  ruin  every  day.  The 
Maltese  Minister's  house  hard  by  had  been  struck  by 
lightning.  Like  lurid  Nature,  Emma  too  was  roused 
to  fury,  though,  a  microcosm  of  it  also,  she  smiled 
between  the  outbursts.  What  could  she  do  but 
wait  ? 

Twelve  days  more;  the  order  comes — "Oblige  Sir 
William/'  Her  passion  blazes  up,  indignant: 
".  .  .  Nothing  can  express  my  rage.  Greville,  to  ad- 
vise me! — you  that  used  to  envy  my  smiles!  Now 
with  cool  indifference  to  advise  me!  ...  Oh!  that  is 
the  worst  of  all.  But  I  will  not,  no,  I  will  not  rage. 
If  I  was  with  you  I  wou'd  murder  you  and  myself 
boath.  I  will  leave  of  [f]  and  try  to  get  more  strength, 
for  I  am  now  very  ill  with  a  cold.  ...  I  won't  look 
back  to  what  I  wrote  .  .  .  Nothing  shall  ever  do  for 
me  but  going  home  to  you.  If  that  is  not  to  be,  I  will 
except  of  nothing.  I  will  go  to  London,  their  go  into 
every  excess  of  vice  till  I  dye,  a  miserable,  broken- 
hearted wretch,  and  leave  my  fate  as  a  warning  to 
young  whomen  never  to  be  two  good;  for  now  you 
have  made  me  love  you,  you  made  me  good,  you 
have  abbandoned  me ;  and  some  violent  end  shall  finish 
our  connexion,  if  it  is  to  finish.  But  oh!  Greville,  you 
cannot,  you  must  not  give  me  up.  You  have  not 
the  heart  to  do  it.  You  love  me  I  am  sure;  and  I  am 
willing  to  do  everything  in  my  power,  and  what  will 
you  have  more?  And  I  only  say  this  is  the  last  time 
I  will  either  beg  or  pray,  do  as  you  like." — "  I  always 
knew,  I  had  a  foreboding  since  first  I  began  to  love 
you,  that  I  was  not  destined  to  be  happy;  for  their  is 
not  a  King  or  Prince  on  hearth  that  cou'd  make  me 


76  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

happy  without  you." — "  Little  Lord  Brooke  is  dead. 
Poor  little  boy,  how  I  envy  him  his  happiness." 

She  had  been  degraded  in  her  own  eyes,  and  by  the 
lover  whom  she  had  heroised.  Was  this,  then,  the  re- 
ward of  modesty  regained;  of  love  returned,  of  strenu- 
ous effort,  of  hopes  for  her  child,  and  a  home  purified? 
Her  idol  lay  prone,  dashed  from  its  pedestal,  with  feet 
of  clay.  And  yet  this  did  not  harden  her.  Though 
she  could  not  trust,  she  still  believed  in  him  as  in  some 
higher  power  who  chastens  those  he  loves.  Her 
paroxysms  passed  to  return  again: — ".  .  .  It  is 
enough,  I  have  paper  that  Greville  wrote  on.  He 
[h]as  folded  it  up.  He  wet  the  wafer.  How  I  envy 
thee  the  place  of  Emma's  lips,  that  would  give  worlds, 
had  she  them,  to  kiss  those  lips!  ...  I  onely  wish 
that  a  wafer  was  my  onely  rival.  But  I  submit  to 
what  God  and  Greville  pleases."  Even  now  she  held 
him  to  his  word.  "  I  have  such  a  headache  with  my 
cold,  I  don't  know  what  to  do.  ...  I  can't  lett  a 
week  go  without  telling  you  how  happy  I  am  at  hear- 
ing from  you.  Pray,  write  as  often  as  you  can.  // 
you  come,  we  shall  all  go  home  together.  .  .  .  Pray 
write  to  me,  and  don't  write  in  the  stile  of  a  freind, 
but  a  lover.  For  I  won't  hear  a  word  of  freind.  Sir 
William  is  ever  freind.  But  we  are  lovers.  I  am 
glad  you  have  sent  me  a  blue  hat  and  gloves.  .  .  ." 

For  many  years  she  cherished  Greville's  friendship. 
She  wrote  to  him  perpetually  after  the  autumn  of  this 
year  saw  Sir  William  win  her  heart  as  well  as  will  by 
his  tenderness,  and  by  her  thought  of  advancing  the 
ingrate  nephew  himself.  Never  did  she  lose  sight  of 
Greville's  interests  during  those  fourteen  future  years 
at  Naples.  She  lived  to  thank  Greville  for  having 
made  Sir  William  known  to  her,  to  be  proud  of  her 
achievements  as  his  eleve. 

But  at  the  same  time  in  these  few  months  a  larger 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  77 

horizon  was  already  opening.  She  had  looked  on  a 
bigger  world,  and  ambition  was  awakening  within 
her.  She  had  seen  royalty  and  statesmen,  and  she 
began  to  feel  that  she  might  play  a  larger  part.  Under 
Greville's  yoke  she  had  been  ready  to  pinch  and  slave ; 
with  Sir  William  she  would  rule.  "  Pray  write,"  she 
concludes  one  of  her  Greville  letters,  "  for  nothing 
will  make  me  so  angry,  and  it  is  not  to  your  intrest 
to  disoblidge  me,  for  you  don't  know,"  she  adds  with 
point,  "  the  power  I  have  hear.  ...  If  you  affront 
me,  /  will  make  him  marry  me.  God  bless  you  for 
ever."  * 

And  amid  all  her  tumult  of  disillusionment,  of  un- 
certainty, of  bewilderment  in  the  new  influence  she 
was  visibly  wielding  over  new  surroundings,  she  re- 
mained the  more  mindful  of  those  oldest  friends  who 
had  believed  her  good,  and  enabled  her  to  feel  good 
herself.  Sir  William,  wishful  to  retain  for  her  the 
outside  comforts  of  virtue,  hastened  to  gratify  her  by 
inviting  Romney  and  Hayley  to  Naples.  The  disap- 
pointment caused  by  Romney's  inability  to  comply  with 
a  request  dear  to  him  -  threw  her  back  on  herself  and 
made  her  feel  lonelier  than  ever;  her  mother  was  her 
great  consolation. 

And  what  was  Greville's  attitude?  These  Emma- 
letters  would  have  been  tumbled  into  his  waste-paper 
basket  with  the  fourteen  others  that  remain,  had  he 
not  returned  them  to  Hamilton  with  the  subjoined  and 
private  comment: — " L'onbli  de  I'lnclus  est  volant, 
ftxez-le:  si  on  admet  le  ton  de  la  vertu  sans  la  verite, 

1  Morrison  MS.  153,  August  i,   1786.     Some  of  the  sentences 
are  quoted  in  the  order  of  feeling  and  not  of  sequence.     Emma 
seldom  wrote  long  letters  in  a  single  day. 

2  Romney  had  been  very  ill.     In  his  answer  (August,  1786)  he 
hopes  "in  a  weke  or  to,  to  be  upon  my  pins  (I  cannot  well  call 
them  legs),  as  you  know  at  best  they  are  very  poor  ones." — Cf. 
Ward  and  Roberts's  Romney,  vol.  i.  p.  67. 


78  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

on  est  la  dupe,  et  je  place  naturellemcnt  tout  sur  Ic 
pied  vrai,  comme  j'ai  toujours  fait,  et  je  constate  I'etat 
actuel  sans  me  reporter  a  vous."  One  must  not  be 
duped  by  the  tone  without  the  truth  of  virtue!  The 
"  self-respect,"  then,  instilled  by  him,  was  never  de- 
signed to  raise  her  straying  soul;  it  was  a  makeshift 
contrived  to  steady  her  erring  steps — a  mere  bridge 
between  goodness  and  its  opposite,  which  he  would  not 
let  her  cross;  though  neither  would  he  let  her  throw 
herself  over  it  into  the  troubled  and  muddy  depths 
below :  it  was  a  bridge  built  for  his  own  retreat.  Grev- 
ille  recked  of  no  "  truth  "  but  hard  "  facts,"  which 
he  looked  unblushingly  in  the  face,  nor  did  his  essence, 
harbour  one  flash  or  spark  of  idealism.  And  still  he 
purposed  her  welfare,  as  he  understood  it;  he  had 
sought  to  kill  three  birds  with  one  stone.  Hamilton, 
for  all  his  faults,  was  never  a  sophist  of  such  com- 
promise. For  Emma  he  purposed  a  state  of  life  above 
its  semblance,  and  a  strength  beyond  its  frail  supports ; 
already  he  desired  that  she  would  consent  to  be,  in  all 
but  name,  his  wife.  Greville,  certain  of  her  good  na- 
ture, had  dreaded  permanence;  Hamilton,  if  all  went 
smoothly,  meant  it.  Yet  Greville  exacted  friendship 
without  affection.  His  French  postscript  was  designed 
to  escape  Emma's  comprehension,  though  a  month  or 
so  later  it  could  not  have  succeeded  in  doing  so.  But 
the  letter  itself  contained  some  paragraphs  which  he 
probably  intended  her  to  study: — 

"...  I  shall  hope  to  manage  to  all  our  satisfac- 
tion, for  I  so  long  foresaw  that  a  moment  of  separa- 
tion must  arrive,  that  I  never  kept  the  connexion,  but 
on  the  footing  of  perfect  liberty  to  her.  Its  com- 
mencement was  not  of  my  seeking,  and  hitherto  it  has 
contributed  to  her  happiness.  She  knows  and  reflects 
often  on  the  circumstances  which  she  cannot  forget, 
and  in  her  heart  she  cannot  reproach  me  of  having  acted 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  79 

otherwise  than  a  kind  and  attentive  friend.  But  you 
have  now  rendered  it  possible  for  her  to  be  respected 
and  comfortable,  and  if  she  has  not  talked  herself  out 
of  the  true  view  of  her  situation  she  will  retain  the  pro- 
tection and  affection  of  us  both.  For  after  all,  con- 
sider what  a  charming  creature  she  would  have  been 
if  she  had  been  blessed  with  the  advantages  of  an 
early  education,  and  had  not  been  spoilt  by  the  in- 
dulgence of  every  caprice.  I  never  was  irritated  by 
her  momentary  passions,  for  it  is  a  good  heart  which 
will  not  part  with  a  friend  in  anger ;  and  yet  it  is  true 
that  when  her  pride  is  hurt  by  neglect  or  anxiety  for 
the  future,  the  frequent  repition  of  her  passion  bal- 
lances  the  beauty  of  the  smiles.  If  a  person  knew  her 
and  could  live  for  life  with  her,  by  an  economy  of  at- 
tention, that  is  by  constantly  renewing  very  little  atten- 
tions, she  would  be  happy  and  good  temper'd,  for  she 
has  not  a  grain  of  avarice  or  self-interest.  ...  Know- 
ing all  this,  infinite  have  been  my  pains  to  make  her  re- 
spect herself,  and  act  fairly,  and  I  had  always  proposed 
to  continue  her  friend,  altho'  the  connexion  ceased.  I 
had  proposed  to  make  her  accept  and  manage  your  kind 
provision,1  and  she  would  easily  have  adopted  that 
plan;  it  was  acting  the  part  of  good  woman,  and  to 
offer  to  put  her  regard  to  any  test,  and  to  show  that 
she  contributed  to  MY  happiness,  by  accepting  the 
provision  ...  it  would  not  have  hurt  her  pride,  and 
would  have  been  a  line  of  heroicks  more  natural,  be- 
cause it  arose  out  of  the  real  situation,  than  any  which 
by  conversation  she  might  persuade  herself  suited  her 
to  act.  Do  not  understand  the  word  "  act "  other 
than  I  mean  it.  We  all  [act]  well  when  we  suit  our 
actions  to  the  real  situation,  and  conduct  them  by  truth 
and  good  intention.  We  act  capriciously  and  incon- 

1  Sir  William  offered  to  settle  £100  annually,  and  Greville  a 
like  sum,  on  her.    Romney  was  to  have  been  a  trustee. 


8o  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

veniently  to  others  when  our  actions  are  founded  on 
an  imaginary  plan  which  does  not  place  the  persons  in- 
volved in  the  scene  in  their  real  situations.  ...  If 
Mrs.  Wells  had  quarrell'd  with  Admiral  Keppell,  she 
would  nevef  have  been  respected  as  she  now  is.  ...  If 
she  will  put  me  on  the  footing  of  a  friend  .  .  .  she 
will  write  to  me  fairly  on  her  plans,  she  will  tell  me 
her  thoughts,  and  her  future  shall  be  my  serious  con- 
cern. .  .  .  She  has  conduct  and  discernment,  and  I 
have  always  said  that  such  a  woman,  if  she  controul 
her  passions,  might  rule  the  roost,  and  chuse  her  sta- 
tion." 

Thus  y£neas-Greville,  of  Dido-Emma,  to  his  trusty 
Achates.  Surely  a  self-revealing  document  of  sense 
and  blindness,  of  truth  and  falsehood,  one,  moreover, 
did  space  allow,  well  worth  longer  excerpts.  He  ex- 
cused his  action  in  his  own  eyes  even  more  elaborately, 
over  and  over  again.  He  would  conscientiously  fulfil 
his  duty  to  her  and  hers,  if  only  she  would  accept  his 
view  of  her  own  duty  towards  him :  his  tone  admitted 
of  few  obligations  beyond  mutual  interest.  He  never 
reproached  either  her  or  himself:  he  thought  himself 
firm,  not  cruel ;  he  remained  her  good  friend  and  well- 
wisher,  her  former  rescuer,  a  father  to  her  child. 
"  Heroicks  "  were  out  of  place  and  out  of  taste.  He 
again  held  up  to  her  proud  imitation  the  prime  pattern' 
of  "  Mrs.  Wells."  He  was  even  willing  that  she 
should  return  home,  if  so  she  chose;  but  his  terms 
were  irrevocably  fixed,  and  it  was  useless  for  her  to 
hystericise  against  adamant. 

But  he  did  not  reckon  with  the  latent  possibilities  of 
her  being.  The  sequel  was  to  prove  not  "  what 
Greville,"  but  what  "  God  pleases." 


CHAPTER  IV 

APPRENTICESHIP   AND   MARRIAGE 
1787-1791 

WHAT  was  the  new  prospect  on  which  Emma's 
eyes  first  rested  in  March,  1786?  Goethe 
has  described  it.  A  fruitful  land,  a  free, 
blue  sea,  the  scented  islands,  and  the  smoking  moun- 
tain. A  population  of  vegetarian  craftsmen  busy  to 
enjoy  with  hand-to-mouth  labour.  A  people  holding 
their  teeming  soil  under  a  lease  on  sufferance  from 
earthquake  and  volcano.  An  inflammable  mob,  whose 
king  lost  six  thousand  subjects  annually  by  assassina- 
tion, and  whose  brawls  and  battles  of  vendetta  would 
last  three  hours  at  a  time.  An  upper  class  of  feudal 
barons  proud  and  ignorant.  A  lower  class  of  half- 
beggars,  at  once  lazy,  brave,  and  insolent,  who,  if 
they  misliked  the  face  of  a  foreign  inquirer,  would 
stare  in  silence  and  turn  away.  A  middle  class  of 
literati  despising  those  above  and  below  them.  A 
race  of  tillers  and  of  fishermen  alternating  between 
pious  superstition  and  reckless  revel,  midway,  as  it 
were,  between  God  and  Satan.  The  bakers  celebrat- 
ing their  patron,  Saint  Joseph;  the  priests  their  child- 
like "saint-humorous,"  San  Filippo  Neri;  high  and 
low  alike,  their  civic  patrons,  Saints  Anthony  and  Janu- 
arius,  whose  liquefying  blood  each  January  propitiated 
Vesuvius.  Preaching  Friars,  dreaming  Friars;  sing- 
ing, sceptical,  enjoying  Abbes.  A  country  luxuriant 

Si 


82  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

not  only  with  southern  growths,  but  garlanded 
even  in  February  by  "banks  of  wild  violets  and  tan- 
gles of  wild  heliotrope  and  sweet-peas.  A  spirit  of 
Nature,  turning  dread  to  beauty,  and  beauty  into 
dread. 

She  sits,  her  head  leaned  against  her  hand,  and 
gazes  through  the  open  casement  on  a  scene  bathed  in 
southern  sun  and  crystal  air — the  pure  air,  the  large 
glow,  the  light  soil  that  made  Neapolis  the  pride  of 
Magna  Grsecia.  Her  room — it  is  Goethe  himself 
who  describes  it — "  furnished  in  the  English  taste," 
is  "  most  delightful  " ;  the  "  outlook  from  its  corner 
window,  unique."  Below,  the  bay;  in  full  view, 
Capri;  on  the  right,  Posilippo;  nearer  the  highroad, 
Villa  Reale,  the  royal  palace;  on  the  left  an  ancient 
Jesuit  cloister,  which  the  queen  had  dedicated  to  learn- 
ing; hard  by  on  either  side,  the  twin  strongholds  of 
Uovo  and  Nuovo,  and  the  busy,  noisy  Molo,  overhung 
by  the  fortress  of  San  Elmo  on  the  frowning  crag; 
further  on,  the  curving  coast  from  Sorrento  to  Cape 
Minerva.  And  all  this  varied  vista,  from  the  centre  of 
a  densely  thronged  and  clattering  city. 

The  whirlwind  of  passion  sank,  and  gradually 
yielded  to  calm,  as  Greville  had  predicted.  "  Every 
woman,"  commented  this  astute  observer,  resenting 
the  mention  of  his  name  at  Naples,  "  either  feels  or 
acts  a  part " ;  and  change  of  dramatis  personcc  was 
necessary,  he  added,  "  to  make  Emma  happy "  and 
himself  "  free."  But  his  careful  prescription  of  the 
immaculate  "  Mrs.  Wells "  only  partially  succeeded. 
True,  the  elderly  friend  was  soon  to  become  the  at- 
tached lover,  and  the  prudential  lover  a  forgiven  friend ; 
but  he  ceased  henceforward  to  be  "  guide  "  or  "  phi- 
losopher," and  gradually  faded  into  a  minor  actor  in 
the  drama,  though  never  into  a  supernumerary.  She 
felt,  as  she  told  Sir  .William,  forlorn;  her  trust  had 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  83 

been  betrayed  and  rudely  shaken.  What  she  longed 
for  was  a  friend,  and  she  could  never  simulate  what 
she  did  not  feel.1  His  gentle  respect,  his  chivalry,  con- 
trasting with  Greville's  cynical  taskmastership,  his  per- 
suasive endearments,  eventually  won  the  day;  and  by 
the  close  of  the  year  'Emma's  heart  assented  to  his  suit. 
Her  eyes  had  been  opened.  To  him  she  "  owed  every- 
thing." He  was  to  her  "  every  kind  name  in  one." 
"  I  believe,"  she  told  him  early  in  1787,  "  it  is  right 
I  shou'd  be  seperated  from  you  sometimes,  to  make 
me  know  myself,  for  I  don't  know  till  you  are  absent, 
how  dear  you  are  to  me  " ;  she  implores  one  little  line 
just  that  she  "  may  kiss  "  his  "  name."  Sir  William 
at  fifty-six  retained  that  art  of  pleasing  which  he  never 
lost;  and  she  was  always  pleased  to  be  petted  and 
shielded.  Already  by  the  opening  of  1788  she  had 
come  to  master  the  language  and  the  society  of  Naples. 
Disobedient  to  his  nephew,  and  his  niece  Mrs.  Dickin- 
son, who  remonstrated  naturally  but  in  vain,  Sir  Will- 
iam insisted  on  her  doing  the  honours,  which  she  aston- 
ished him  by  managing,  as  he  thought,  to  perfection. 
Every  moment  spared  from  visits  abroad  or  her  hos- 
pitalities in  the  Palazzo  Sessa  was  filled  by  strenuous 
study  at  home,  or  in  the  adjoining  Convent  of  Santa 
Romita.  Her  captivating  charm,  her  quick  tact,  her 
impulsive  friendliness,  her  entertaining  humour,  her 
natural  taste  for  art,  which,  together  with  her  "  kind- 
ness and  intelligence,"  had  already  been  acknowledged 
by  Romney  as  a  source  of  inspiration ;  her  unique  "  At- 
titudes," her  voice  which,  under  Galluci's  tuition,  she 
was  now  beginning  "  to  command,"  even  her  free  and 
easy  manners  when  contrasted  with  those  of  the 

JCf.  her  very  striking  letter  to  Hamilton,  Morrison  MS.  163: 
"...  Do  you  call  me  your  dear  friend  ?  .  .  .  Oh,  if  I  cou'd 
express  myself!  If  I  had  words  to  thank  you,  that  I  may  not 
thus  be  choked  with  meanings,  for  which  I  can  find  no  ut- 
terance ! " 


84  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Neapolitan  noblesse,  all  seemed  miracles,  broke  down 
the  easy  barriers  of  susceptible  southerners,  and  gained 
her  hosts  of  "  sensible  admirers."  So  early  as  Febru- 
ary, 1787,  Sir  William  reported  to  his  nephew: 
•".  .  .  Our  dear  Em.  goes  on  now  quite  as  I  cou'd 
.wish,  and  is  universally  beloved  " — a  phrase  which 
Emma  herself  repeated  ten  months  later  to  her  first 
mentor,  with  the  proud  consciousness  of  shining  at  a 
distance  before  him.  "  She  is  wonderful,"  added 
Hamilton,  "  considering  her  youth  and  beauty,  and  I 
flatter  myself  that  E.  and  her  Mother  are  happy  to  be 
with  me,  so  that  I  see  my  every  wish  fulfilled."  By 
the  August  of  this  year,  when  she  first  wrote  Italian, 
she  saw  "  good  company,"  she  delighted  the  whole 
diplomatic  circle;  Sir  William  was  indissociable ;  she 
used  the  familiar  "  we  " — "  our  house  at  Caserta  is 
fitted  up,"  while  Sir  William  followed  suit.  The  very 
servants  styled  her  "  Eccellenza."  Her  attached  Am- 
bassador "  is  distractedly  in  love  " ;  "  he  deserves  it, 
and  indeed  I  love  him  dearly."  There  was  not  a  grain 
in  her  of  inconstancy.  "  He  is  so  kind,  so  good  and 
tender  to  me,"  she  wrote  as  Emma  Hart,  in  an  un- 
published letter,  "  that  I  love  him  so  much  that  I  have 
not  a  warm  look  left  for  the  Neapolitans."  His  even- 
ings, he  wrote,  were  sweet  with  song  and  admiring 
guests,  while  her  own  society  rendered  them  a  "  com- 
fort." Inclination  went  on  steadily  ripening,  until  it 
settled  within  three  years  into  deep  mutual  fondness. 
He  fitted  up  for  her  a  new  boudoir  in  the  Naples  house 
with  its  round  mirrors,  as  Miss  Knight  has  recorded, 
covering  the  entire  side  of  the  wall  opposite  the  semi- 
circular window,  and  reflecting  the  moonlit  bay  with 
its  glimmering  boats,  the  glass  tanks  with  their  marine 
treasures  of  "  sea-oranges  "  and  the  like.  Within  a  year 
Hamilton  tells  Greville  that  she  asks  him  "  Do  you 
love  me,  aye,  but  as  much  as  your  new  apartment  ?  "— 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  85 

both  here  and  at  Caserta.  He  did  his  best  to  "  form  " 
her,  and  in  the  course  of  time  she  was  able  to  share  his 
botanical  studies,  which  they  pursued  not  as  "  pedan- 
tical  prigs  "  to  air  learning,  but  with  zeal  and  pleasure 
in  the  early  mornings  and  fresh  air  of  the  "  English  " 
gardens.  Her  aptitude  and  adaptiveness  worked 
wonders.  Within  a  year  she  could  take  an  intelligent 
interest  in  the  virtuoso's  new  volume,  if  we  may  judge 
from  Sir  J.  Banks,  who  some  years  later  again  bade 
his  old  crony  tell  her  that  he  hoped  she  admired  Penel- 
ope in  his  work  on  Urns.  She  aided  his  volcanic  ob- 
servations; Sir  William  laughed,  and  said  she  would 
rival  him  with  the  mountain  now.  Both  had  already 
stayed  with,  and  she  had  enchanted,  the  Duke  and 
Duchess  of  St.  Maitre  at  Sorrento,  the  musical 
Countess  of  Mahoney  at  Ischia;  cries  of  "  Una  donna 
rara,"  "  bellissima  creatura,"  were  on  every  mouth. 
The  Duke  of  Gloucester  begged  Hamilton  to  favour 
him  with  her  acquaintance.  The  Olympian  Goethe 
himself  beheld  and  marvelled.  Her  unpretending 
naivete  won  her  adherents  at  every  step.  "  All  the  fe- 
male nobility,  with  the  queen  at  their  head,"  were 
"  distantly  civil  "  to  her  already;  none  rude  to  Emma 
were  allowed  within  the  precincts.  Meddlers  or  cen- 
sors were  sent  roundly  to  the  right-about,  and  in- 
formed that  she  was  the  sweetest,  the  best,  the  clev- 
erest creature  in  the  world.  When  he  returned  from 
his  periodical  royal  wild-boar  chases,  it  was  Emma 
again  who  brewed  his  punch  and  petted  him.  Now 
and  again  there  peeps  out  also  that  half  voluptuous 
tinge  in  her  wifeliness  which  never  wholly  deserted  her. 
She  had  been  Greville's  devoted  slave;  Sir  \Villiam  was 
already  hers.  Her  monitor  had  repulsed  her  free 
sacrifice  and  urged  it  for  his  own  advantage  towards 
his  uncle;  but  her  worshipper  had  now  fanned  not  so 
much  the  flame,  perhaps,  as  the  incense  of  her  un- 


86  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

feigned *  attachment.  The  English  dined  with  her 
while  Sir  William  was  away  shooting  with  the  king. 
She  trilled  Handel  and  Paisiello,  learned  French, 
Italian,  music,  dancing,  design,  and  history.  Hamil- 
ton, himself  musical,  used  later  on  to  accompany  her 
voice — of  which  he  was  a  good  judge — on  the  viola. 
She  laughed  at  the  foibles  and  follies  of  the  court; 
she  retailed  to  him  the  gossip  of  the  hour.  She  en- 
tered into  his  routine  and  protected  his  interests;  she 
prevented  him  from  being  pestered  or  plundered.  Only 
a  few  years,  and  she  was  dictating  etiquette  even  to  an 
English  nobleman. 

It  was  a  triumphal  progress  which  took  the  town  by 
storm;  her  beauty  swept  men  off  their  feet.  The 
transformations  of  these  eighteen  months,  which  lifted 
her  out  of  her  cramped  nook  at  Paddington  into  a 
wide  arena,  read  like  a  dream,  or  one  of  those  Arabian 
fairy-tales  where  peasants  turn  princes  in  an  hour. 
Nor  is  the  least  surprise,  .among  many,  the  thought 
that  these  dissolving  views  present  themselves  as  ad- 
ventures of  admired  virtue,  and  not  as  unsanctioned 
escapades.  At  Naples  the  worst  of  her  past  seemed 
buried,  and  she  could  be  born  again.  Her  accent,  her 
vulgarisms  mattered  little;  she  spoke  to  new  friends 
in  a  new  language.  The  "  lovely  woman  "  who  had 
"  stooped  to  folly,  and  learned  too  late  that  men  be- 
tray," seems  rather  to  have  "  stooped  to  conquer  "  by 
the  approved  methods  of  the  same  Goldsmith's  heroine. 

The  scene  of  her  debut  is  that  of  Opera,  all  moon- 
light, flutter,  music,  and  masquerade.  Escaping  in 


*Cf.  Morrison  MS.  164, 1787  (Emma  to  Sir  William):  "...  My 
comforter  in  distress.  Then  why  shall  I  not  love  you.  Endead  I 
must  and  ought  whilst  life  is  left  in  me  or  reason  to  think  on  you. 
.  .  .  My  heart  and  eyes  fill.  ...  I  owe  everything  to  you,  and 
shall  ever  with  gratitude  remember  it.  .  .  ."  And  cf.  ibid,  172, 
1788 ;"...!  love  Sir  William,  for  he  renounces  all  for  me." 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  87 

the  cool  of  the  evening  from  her  chambers,  thronged 
by  artists,  wax-modellers,  and  intaglio-cutters,  she  at- 
tends Sir  William's  evening  saunter  in  the  royal  gar- 
dens at  the  fashionable  hour.  Her ,  complexion  so 
much  resembles  apple-blossom,  that  beholders  question 
it,  although  she  neither  paints  nor  powders.  Dapper 
Prince  Dietrichstein  from  Vienna  ("  Draydrixton " 
in  her  parlance  as  in  Acton's)  attends  her  as  "  cavaliere 
servente,"  whispering  to  her  in  broken  English  that 
she  is  a  "  diamond  of  the  first  water."  Two  more 
princes  and  "  two  or  three  nobles  "  follow  at  her  heels. 
She  wears  a  loose  muslin  gown,  the  sleeves  tied  in 
folds  with  blue  ribbon  and  trimmed  with  lace,  a  blue 
sash  and  the  big  blue  hat  which  Greville  has  sent  her 
as  peace-offering.  Beyond  them  stand  the  king,  the 
queen,  the  minister  Acton,  and  a  brilliant  retinue. 
That  queen,  careworn  but  beautiful,  who  already 
"  likes  her  much,"  has  begged  the  Austrian  beau  to 
walk  near  her  that  she  may  get  a  glimpse  of  his  fair 
companion,  the  English  girl,  who  is  a  "  modern  an- 
tique." "  But  Greville,"  writes  Emma,  "  the  king 
[h]as  eyes,  he  [h]as  a  heart,  and  I  have  made  an 
impression  on  it.  But  I  told  the  prince,  Hamilton 
is  my  friend,  and  she  belongs  to  his  nephew,  for  all 
our  friends  know  it."  *  Only  last  Sunday  that  "  Roi 
d'Yvetot  "  had  dined  at  Posilippo,  mooring  his  boat  by 
the  casements  of  Hamilton's  country  casino  for  a 
nearer  view.  This  garden-house  is  already  named  the 
"  Villa  Emma,"  and  there  for  Emma  a  new  "  music- 
room  "  is  building.  Emma  and  the  Ambassador  had 
been  entertaining  a  "  diplomatick  party."  They  issue 
forth  beneath  the  moon  to  their  private  boat.  At 
once  the  monarch  places  his  "  boat  of  musick  "  next 
to  theirs.  His  band  of  "  French  Horns  "  strikes  up 
a  serenade  for  the  queen  of  hearts.  The  king  re- 
1  Morrison  MS.  152,  July  22,  1786. 


88 

moves  his  hat,  sits  with  it  on  his  knees,  and  "  when  go- 
ing to  land,"  bows  and  says,  "  it  was  a  sin  he  could 
not  speak  English."  She  has  him  in  her  train  every 
evening  at  San  Carlo,  villa,  or  promenade ;  she  is  the 
cynosure  of  each  day,  and  the  toast  of  every  night. 

Or,  again,  she  entertains  informally  at  Sorrento,  all 
orange-blossom  in  February,  after  an  afternoon  of 
rambling  donkey-rides  near  flaming  Vesuvius,  and 
visits  to  grandees  in  villeggiatura.  In  one  room  sits 
Sir  William's  orchestra ;  in  the  other  she  receives  their 
guests.  At  last  her  turn  comes  round  to  sing;  she 
chooses  "  Luce  Bella,"  in  which  the  Banti  makes  such 
a  furore  at  San  Carlo,  that  famous  Bant?  who  had 
already  marvelled  at  the  tone  and  compass  of  her 
voice,  when  in  fear  and  trembling  she  had  been  in- 
duced to  follow  her.  As  she  ceases,  there  is  a  ten 
minutes'  round  of  applause,  a  hubbub  of  "  Bravas " 
and  "  Ancoras."  And  then  she  performs  in  "  buffo  " 
i — "  that  one  "  (and  Greville  knew  it)  "  with  a  Tam- 
bourin,  in  the  character  of  a  young  girl  with  a  raire- 
shew  [raree-show],  the  pretiest  thing  you  ever  heard." 
He  must  concede  her  triumph,  the  hard,  unruffled  man ! 
She  turns  the  heads  of  the  Sorrentines;  she  leaves 
"  some  dying,  some  crying,  and  some  in  despair.  Mind 
you,  this  was  all  nobility,  as  proud  as  the  devil " ;  but 
— and  here  brags  the  people's  daughter — "  we  humbled 
them  ";  "  but  what  astonished  them  was  that  I  shou'd 
speak  such  good  Italian.  For  I  paid  them,  I  spared 
non[e]  of  them,  tho'  I  was  civil  and  oblidging.  One 
asked  me  if  I  left  a  love  at  Naples,  that  I  left  them  so 
soon.  I  pulled  my  lip  at  him,  to  say,  '  I  pray,  do  you 
take  me  for  an  Italian?  .  .  .  Look,  sir,  I  am  Eng- 
lish. I  have  one  Cavaliere  servente,  and  have  brought 
him  with  me,'  pointing  to  Sir  William."  Hart,  the 
English  musician,  wept  to  hear  her  sing  an  air  by  Han- 
del, pronouncing  that  in  her  the  tragic  and  comic 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  89 

Muses  were  so  happily  blended  that  Garrick  would 
have  been  enraptured.  These  were  the  very  qualities 
that  even  thus  early  distinguished  her  self-taught  "  At- 
titudes," by  common  consent  of  all  beholders  a  mar- 
vel of  artistic  expression  and  refinement.  Goethe,  at 
this  moment  in  Naples,  and  certainly  no  biassed  critic, 
was  an  eye-witness.  He  had  been  introduced  by  his 
friends,  the  German  artists,1  to  the  Maecenas  Ambas- 
sador and  "  his  Emma."  He  thus  records  his  im- 
pressions : — 

".  .  .  The  Chevalier  Hamilton,  so  long  resident 
here  as  English  Ambassador,  so  long,  too,  connoisseur 
and  student  of  Art  and  Nature,  has  found  their  coun- 
terpart and  acme  with  exquisite  delight  in  a  lovely 
girl — English,  and  some  twenty  years  of  age.  She  is 
exceedingly  beautiful  and  finely  built.  She  wears  a 
Greek  garb  becoming  her  to  perfection.  She  then 
merely  loosens  her  locks,  takes  a  pair  of  shawls,  and 
effects  changes  of  postures,  moods,  gestures,  mien,  and 
appearance  that  make  one  really  feel  as  if  one  were  in 
some  dream.  Here  is  visible  complete,  and  bodied 
forth  in  movements  of  surprising  variety,  all  that  so 
many  artists  have  sought  in  vain  to  fix  and  render. 
Successively  standing,  kneeling,  seated,  reclining, 
grave,  sad,  sportive,  teasing,  abandoned,  penitent, 
alluring,  threatening,  agonised.  One  follows  the 
other,  and  grows  out  of  it.  She  knows  how  to  choose 
and  shift  the  simple  folds  of  her  single  kerchief  for 
every  expression,  and  to  adjust  it  into  a  hundred  kinds 
of  headgear.  Her  elderly  knight  holds  the  torches  for 
her  performance,  and  is  absorbed  in  his  soul's  desire. 
In  her  he  finds  the  charm  of  all  antiques,  the  fair 
profiles  on  Sicilian  coins,  the  Apollo  Belvedere  him- 
self. .  .  .  We  have  already  rejoiced  in  the  spectacle 

1Tischbein,  Hackert,  and  Andreas,  who,  with  others,  were  at 
this  time  painting  in  Naples. 


90  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

two    evenings.     Early    to-morrow    Tischbein    paints 
her."  x 

There  are  less  familiar  references  also  in  the  Italian 
Journey.  On  Goethe's  return  from  Sicily  in  May,  the 
author  of  Werther,  occupied  with  the  art,  the  peasant 
life,  and  the  geology  of  the  neighbourhood,  renewed 
his  acquaintance  with  the  pair  and  acknowledges  their 
kindnesses.  He  dined  with  them  again.  Sir  William 
favoured  him  with  a  view  of  his  excavated  treasures 
in  the  odd  "  vault,"  where  statues  and  sarcophagi, 
bronze  candelabra  and  busts,  lay  disarranged  and 
jumbled.  Among  them  Goethe  noticed  an  upright, 
open  chest  "  rimmed  exquisitely  with  gold,  and  large 
enough  to  contain  a  life-size  figure  in  its  dark,  inner 
background."  Sir  William  explained  how  Emma, 
attired  in  bright  Pompeiian  costume,  had  stood  mo- 
tionless inside  it  with  an  effect  in  the  half-light  even 
more  striking  than  her  grace  as  "  moving  statue." 
Goethe,  ever  curious,  was  now  keenly  interested  in 
studying  the  superstitions  of  the  Neapolitan  peasantry, 
including  the  realistic  shows  of  manger  and  Magi  with 
which  they  celebrated  Christmas-tide.  In  these,  living 
images  were  intermixed  with  coloured  casts  of  clay. 
And  he  hazards  the  remark — while  deprecating  it  from 
the  lips  of  a  contented  guest — that  perhaps  "  Miss 
Harte  "  was  at  root  not  more  than  such  a  living  image 
— a  tableau  vivant.  Perchance,  he  muses,  the  main 
lack  of  his  "  fair  hostess  "  is  "geist "  or  soulfulness  of 
mind.  Her  dumb  shows,  he  adds,  were  naturally  un- 
voiced, and  voice  alone  expresses  spirit.  Even  her 
admired  singing  he  then  thought  deficient  in  "  ful- 
ness." Had  Goethe,  however,  known  her  whole  na- 
ture, he  would  have  owned  that  if  she  were  " geistlos" 
in  the  highest  sense,  she  was  never  dull,  and  was  to 
prove  the  reverse  of  soulless;  while  he,  of  all  men, 
1  Goethe,  Italienische  Reise,  March  16,  1787. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  91 

would  have  admired  not  only  her  enthusiasm  but  her 
more  practical  qualities.  Did  he,  perhaps,  in  after 
years  recall  this  mute  and  lovely  vision  when  her  name, 
for  good  or  ill,  had  entered  history?  At  any  rate, 
though  neither  Hamilton  nor  Emma  has  noticed  him  in 
existing  letters,  they  both  endure  on  Goethe's  pages; 
and  to  have  impressed  Goethe  was  even  then  no  easy 
task.  That  the  creator  of  Iphigcnia  and  Tasso  was 
deeply  impressed  is  proved  by  another  and  better 
known  passage,  where  after  praising  Hamilton  as  "  a 
man  of  universal  taste,  who  has  roamed  through  all 
the  realms  of  creation,"  and  has  "  made  a  beautiful 
existence  which  he  enjoys  in  the  evening  of  life,"  he 
adds  that  Emma  is  "  a  masterpiece  of  the  Arch- 
Artist." 

To  resume  our  dissolving  views :  a  priest  begs  her 
picture  on  a  box,  which  he  clasps  to  his  bosom.  A 
countess  weeps  when  she  departs.  The  Russian 
empress  hears  her  fame,  and  orders  her  portrait. 
Commodore  Melville  gives  a  dinner  to  thirty  on  board 
his  Dutch  frigate  in  her  honour,  and  seats  her  at  the 
head  as  "  mistress  of  the  feast."  She  is  robed  "  all  in 
virgin  white,"  her  hair  "  in  ringlets  reaching  almost 
to  her  heels,"  so  long,  that  Sir  William  says  she 
"  look't  and  moved  amongst  it."  She  has  soon  learned 
by  rote  the  little  ways  of  the  big  world,  and  whispers 
to  him  that  it  is  gala  night  at  San  Carlo,  and  de 
rigucur  to  reach  their  box  before  the  royal  party  en- 
tered their  neighbouring  one.  The  guns  salute;  the 
pinnace  starts  amid  laughter,  song,  and  roses,  while 
off  she  speeds  to  semi-royal  triumphs — "  as  tho'  I 
was  a  queen."  Serena's  wholesome  lesson  is  being 
half  forgotten. 

Once  more,  Vesuvius  "  looks  beautiful,"  with  its 
lava-streams  descending  far  as  Portici.  She  climbs 
the  peak  of  fire  at  midnight — five  miles  of  flame;  the 


92  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

peasants  deem  the  mountain  "  burst."  The  climbers 
seek  the  shelter  of  the  Hermit's  cabin — that  strange 
Hermit  who  had  thus  retired  to  solitude  and  exile  for 
love  of  a  princess.1  Has  she  not  spirit  ?  Let  Greville 
mark :  "  For  me,  I  was  enraptured.  I  could  have  staid 
all  night  there,  and  I  have  never  been  in  charity  with 
the  moon  since,  for  it  looked  so  pale  and  sickly.  And 
the  red-hot  lava  served  to  light  up  the  moon,  for  the 
light  of  the  moon  was  nothing  to  the  lava."  Ascend- 
ing, she  meets  the  Prince-Royal.  •  His  "  foolish 
tuters,"  fearful  of  their  charge's  safety  and  their  own, 
escort  him  only  halfway,  and  allow  him  but  three 
minutes  for  the  sight.  She  asks  him  how  he  likes  it. 
"  Bella,  ma  poca  roba,"  replies  the  lad.  Five  hundred 
yards  higher  he  could  have  watched  "  the  noblest, 
sublimest  sight  in  the  world."  But  the  "  poor  fright- 
ened creatures"  beat  "a  scared"  retreat:  "O,  I  shall 
kill  myself  with  laughing!  "  And  is  not  the  plebeian 
girl  schooling  herself  to  be  a  match  for  crass  blue 
blood?  "  Their  [h]as  been  a  prince  paying  us  a  visit. 
He  is  sixty  years  of  age,  one  of  the  first  families,  and 
fh]as  allways  lived  at  Naples;  and  when  I  told  him  I 
had  been  at  Caprea,  he  asked  me  if  I  went  there  by 
land.  Only  think  what  ignorance!  I  staired  at  him, 
and  asked  him  who  was  his  tutor,"  coolly  remarks  the 
femme  savant e  who  writes  of  "  as  "  and  "  stair." 

She  cannot  tear  her  eyes  away  from  the  volcano's 
awful  pageant.  She  takes  one  of  her  maids — "  a  great 
biggot  " — up  to  her  house-top  and  shows  her  the  con- 
flagration. The  contadina  drops  on  her  knees,  call- 
ing on  the  city's  patron  saints :  "  O  Janaro  mio,  0  An- 
tonio mio!"  Ejnma  falls  down  on  hers,  exclaiming, 
"  0  Santa  Loola  mia,  Loola  mia!  "  Teresa  rises,  and 
with  open  eyes  inquires  whether  "  her  Excellency " 

*Alexandre  Sauveur,  who  dared  to  love  the  Princess  Ferdi- 
nand, whose  tutor  he  was. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  93 

doubts  the  saints.  "  No,"  replies  her  mistress  in 
Italian,  "  it  is  quite  the  same  if  you  pray  to  my  own 
'  Loola.' '  "...  She  look't  at  me,  and  said,  to  be 
sure,  I  read  a  great  many  books  and  must  know  more 
than  her.  But  she  says,  '  Does  not  God  favour  you 
more  than  ous?'  Says  I,  no.  'O  God,'  says  she, 
'  your  eccellenza  is  very  ungrateful !  He  [h]as  been  so 
good  as  to  make  your  face  the  same  as  he  made  the 
face  of  the  Blessed  Virgin's,  and  you  don't  esteem  it  a 
favour ! '  '  Why,'  says  I,  '  did  you  ever  see  the 
Virgin?  '  '  O  yes,'  says  she,  '  you  are  like  every  pic- 
ture that  there  is  of  her,  and  you  know  the  people 
at  Iscea  fel  down  on  their  knees  to  you,  and  beg'd  you 
to  grant  them  favours  in  her  name.'  And,  Greville,  it 
is  true  that  they  have  all  got  it  in  their  heads  that  I 
am  like  the  Virgin,  and — do  come  to  beg  favours  of 
me.  Last  night  there  was  two  preists  came  to  my 
house,  and  Sir  William  made  me  put  a  shawl  over 
my  head,  and  look  up,  and  the  preist  burst  into  tears 
and  kist  my  feet,  and  said  God  had  sent  me  a  purpose." 
Emma  is  in  vein  indeed.  How  buoyantly  she  swims 
and  splashes  on  the  rising  tide !  How  exuberantly  the 
whole  breathes  of  "  I  always  knew  I  could,  if  oppor- 
tunity but  walked  towards  me !  "  and  of  "  I  will  show 
Greville  what  a  pearl  he  has  cast  away !  "  Although 
she  could  be  diffident  when  matched  with  genuine  ex- 
cellence or  before  those  she  loved,  how  the  blare  of 
her  trumpet  drowns  all  the  still  small  voices!  One  is 
reminded  of  Woollett,  the  celebrated  eighteenth  cen- 
tury engraver,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  firing  off  a 
small  cannon  from  the  roof  of  his  house  every  time  he 
had  finished  a  successful  plate.  What  a  profuse  med- 
ley of  candour  and  contrivance,  of  simplicity  and  van- 
ity, of  commonness  and  elegance,  of  courtesy  and  chal- 
lenge, of  audacity  and  courage,  of  quick-wittedness 
and  ignorance,  of  honest  kindness  and  honest  irrever- 


94  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

ence!  She  is  already  a  born  actress  of  realities,  and 
on  no  mimic  stage.  Yet  many  of  her  faults  she  fully 
felt,  and  held  them  curable.  "  Patienza,"  she  sighs, 
and  time  may  mend  thean;  in  her  own  words  of  this 
very  period,  "  I  am  a  pretty  woman,  and  one  cannot 
be  everything  at  once." 

But  a  more  delicate  strain  is  audible  when  her  heart 
is  really  touched. 

At  the  convent  whither  she  resorted  for  daily  les- 
sons during  Sir  William's  absence,  now  transpired  an 
idyl  which  must  be  repeated  just  as  she  describes  it : — 

"  I  had  hardly  time  to  thank  you  for  your  kind  let- 
ter of  this  morning  as  I  was  buisy  prepairing  for  to 
go  on  my  visit  to  the  Convent  of  Santa  Romita;  and 
endead  I  am  glad  I  went,  tho'  it  was  a  short  visit. 
But  to-morrow  I  dine  with  them  in  full  assembly.  I 
am  quite  charmed  with  Beatrice  Acquaviva.  Such  is 
the  name  of  the  charming  whoman  I  saw  to-day.  Oh 
Sir  William,  she  is  a  pretty  whoman.  She  is  29  years 
old.  She  took  the  veil  at  twenty ;  and  does  not  repent 
to  this  day,  though  if  I  am  a  judge  in  physiognomy, 
her  eyes  does  not  look  like  the  eyes  of  a  nun.  They 
are  allways  laughing,  and  something  in  them  vastly 
alluring,  and  I  wonder  the  men  of  Naples  wou'd  suffer 
the  oneley  pretty  whoman  who  is  realy  pretty  to  be 
shut  in  a  convent.  But  it  is  like  the  mean-spirited  ill 
taste  of  the  Neapolitans.  I  told  her  I  wondered  how 
she  wou'd  be  lett  to  hide  herself  from  the  world,  and  I 
daresay  thousands  of  tears  was  shed  the  day  she  de- 
prived Naples  of  one  of  its  greatest  ornaments.  She 
answered  with  a  sigh,  that  endead  numbers  of  tears 
was  shed,  and  once  or  twice  her  resolution  was  allmost 
shook,  but  a  pleasing  comfort  she  felt  at  regaining 
her  friends  that  she  had  been  brought  up  with,  and 
religious  considerations  strengthened  her  mind,  and 
she  parted  with  the  world  with  pleasure.  And  since 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  95 

that  time  one  of  her  sisters  had  followed  her  example, 
and  another — which  I  saw — was  preparing  to  enter 
soon.  But  neither  of  her  sisters  is  so  beautiful  as  her, 
tho'  the[y]  are  booth  very  agreable.  But  I  think  Bea- 
trice is  charming,  and  I  realy  feil  for  her  an  affection. 
Her  eyes,  Sir  William,  is  I  don't  know  how  to  describe 
them.  I  stopt  one  hour  with  them;  and  I  had  all  the 
good  things  to  eat,  and  I  promise  you  they  don't  starve 
themselves.  But  there  dress  is  very  becoming,  and  she 
told  me  that  she  was  allow'd  to  wear  rings  and  mufs 
and  any  little  thing  she  liked,  and  endead  she  display'd 
to-day  a  good  deal  of  finery,  for  she  had  4  or  5  dimond 
rings  on  her  fingers,  and  seemed  fond  of  her  muff. 
She  has  excellent  teeth,  and  shows  them,  for  she  is  all- 
ways  laughing.  She  kissed  my  lips,  cheeks,  and  fore- 
head, and  every  moment  exclaimed  '  Charming,  fine 
creature,'  admired  my  dress,  said  I  looked  like  an 
angel,  for  I  was  in  clear  white  dimity  and  a  blue 
sash."  (This,  surely,  is  scarcely  the  seraphic  garb 
as  the  great  masters  imaged  it.)  ".  .  .  She  said  she 
had  heard  I  was  good  to  the  poor,  generous,  and  noble- 
minded.  *  Now/  she  says,  '  it  wou'd  be  worth  wile  to 
live  for  such  a  one  as  you.  Your  good  heart  wou'd 
melt  at  any  trouble  that  befel  me,  and  partake  of  one's 
greef  or  be  equaly  happy  at  one's  good  fortune.  But 
I  never  met  with  a  f reind  yet,  or  I  ever  saw  a  person  I 
cou'd  love  till  now,  and  you  shall  have  proofs  of  my 
love.'  In  short  I  sat  and  listened  to  her,  and  .the  tears 
stood  in  my  eyes,  I  don't  know  why;  but  I  loved  her 
at  that  moment.  I  thought  what  a  charming  wife 
she  wou'd  have  made,,  what  a  mother  of  a  family, 
what  a  f  reind,  and  the  first  good  and  amiable  whoman 
I  have  seen  since  I  came  to  Naples  for  to  be  lost  to 
the  world — how  cruel!  She  give  me  a  sattin  pocket- 
book  of  her  own  work,  and  bid  me  think  of  her,  when 
I  saw  it,  and  was  many  miles  far  of[f];  and  years 


96  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

hence  when  she  peraps  shou'd  be  no  more,  to  look  at  it, 
and  think  the  person  that  give  it  had  not  a  bad  heart. 
Did  not  she  speak  very  pretty?  But  not  one  word  of 
religion.  But  I  shall  be  happy  to-day,  for  I  shall 
dine  with  them  aU,  and  come  home  at  night.  There 
is  sixty  whomen  and  all  well-looking,  but  not  like  the 
fair  Beatrice.  'Oh  Emma,'  she  says  to  me,  'the[y] 
brought  here  the  Viene  minister's  wife,  but  I  did  not 
like  the  looks  of  her  at  first.  She  was  little,  short, 
pinch'd  face,  and  I  received  her  cooly.  How  dif- 
ferent from  you,  and  how  surprised  was  I  in  seeing 
you  tall  in  statu[r]e.  We  may  read  your  heart  in 
your  countenance,  your  complexion;  in  short,  your 
figure  and  features  is  rare,  for  you  are  like  the  marble 
statues  I  saw  when  I  was  in  the  world.'  I  think  she 
flattered  me  up,  but  I  was  pleased."  * 

The  convent  cloisters  bordered  on  those  "  royal  " 
or  "  English "  gardens  which  Sir  William  and  she 
were  afterwards  so  much  to  improve;  and  here,  if  the 
Marchesa  di  Solari's  memory  can  be  trusted — and  it 
constantly  trips  in  her  Italian  record — happened,  it 
would  seem,  about  this  time,  another  incident  typical 
of  another  side,  more  comic  than  pathetic.  It  sounds 
like  some  interlude  by  Beaumarchais,  and  recalls 
Rosina  of  Figaro.  Intrigue  belongs  to  Naples.  The 
young  Goethe  observed  of  the  Neapolitan  atmosphere: 
"  Naples  is  a  paradise.  Every  one  lives,  after  his 
manner,  .intoxicated  with  self-forgetfulness.  It  is  the 
same  with  me.  I  scarcely  recognise  myself,  I  seem 
an  altered  being.  Yesterday  I  thought  '  either  you 
'were  or  are  mad.'  "  2 

The  madcap  belle's  stratagem  was  this.     Walking 

1  Morrison  MS.  160,  January  10,  1787.    It  should  here  be  com- 
memorated that  one  of  her  first  actions^at  Naples  was  to  pro- 
cure a  post  for  Robert  White,  a  protege  of  Greville. 

2  Goethe,  Italienische  Reise,  March  16,  1787. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  97 

there  one  afternoon  under  the  escort  of  her  duenna, 
she  was  accosted  by  a  personage  whom  she  knew  to 
be  King  Ferdinand.  He  solicited  a  private  interview, 
and  was  peremptorily  refused.  He  succeeded,  how- 
ever, in  bribing  her  attendant,  and  followed  her  to  a 
remote  nook,  where  they  would  be  unobserved.  He 
pressed  his  promises  with  fervour,  but  Emma  refused 
to  listen  to  a  word,  unless  everything  was  committed 
to  paper.1  The  monarch  complied,  and  thereupon 
Emma  hastened  to  the  palace  and  urgently  entreated 
an  audience  with  the  Queen.  Sobbing  on  her  knees, 
she  implored  her  to  save  her  from  persecutions  so  great 
that  unless  they  were  removed  she  had  resolved  to  quit 
the  world  and  find  shelter  with  the  nuns.  The  Queen, 
touched  by  such  beauty  in  such  distress,  urged  her  to 
disclose  the  name  of  her  unknown  importuner.  There- 
upon Emma  handed  her  the  paper,  was  bidden  by  the 
Queen  to  rise,  and  comforted.  So  far  there  seems 
ground  for  the  tale.  The  Marchesa  says  that  Sir  Will- 
•  iam  "  partially  "  confirmed  it;  and  this  must  allude  to 
the  sequel  which  represents  Maria  Carolina  as  urging 
the  Ambassador  to  marry  his  Lucretia  without  delay. 
Whether  it  is  true  that  the  tears  of  affliction  were 
caused  by  an  onion,  and  that  Emma  was  "  on  her  mar- 
row-bones "  in  the  garden  while  the  Queen  was  perus- 
ing the  tell-tale  document,  depends  upon  the  number 
of  embellishments  such  a  farce  would  probably  re- 
ceive. If  true,  it  hardly  redounds  to  Emma's  credit. 
But  from  Emma  we  must  now  part  awhile  to  con- 

1  From  indications  in  her  letter.  Cf.  Morrison  MS.  157,  De- 
cember 26,  1786  (Emma  to  Sir  William)  :  "  If  I  had  the  offer  of 
crowns,  I  would  refuse  them  and  except  you,  and  I  don't  care 
if  all  the  world  knows  it.  ...  Certain  it  is  I  love  you  and 
sincerely."  And  cf.  ibid.  153:  "We  are  closely  besieged  by  the 
King  in  a  roundabout  manner,  but  .  .  .  we  never  give  him 
any  encouragement."  In  this  very  year  the  prima  donna  Banti 
was  whisked  off  across  the  frontier  by  the  Queen's  orders  for 
presuming  to  favour  the  amorous  King's  attentions. 


98  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

sider  the  social  and  political  conditions  of  the  court  of 
Naples,  very  different  now  from  what  they  were  to 
become  a  few  years  later  under  the  new  forces  of  the 
French  Revolution,  and,  afterwards,  of  the  meteoric 
Napoleon.  It  is  a  panorama  which  here  can  only  be 
sketched  in  outline.  It  was  to  prove  the  theatre  of 
Emma's  best  activities. 

During  the  entire  eighteenth  century,  from  the  War 
of  Succession  to  the  Treaty  of  Utrecht,  from  the 
Treaty  of  Utrecht  to  that  of  the  Quadruple  Alliance, 
from  that  again  to  those  of  Vienna  and  of  Aix,  the 
Bourbons  and  the  Hapsburgs  had  been  perpetually 
wrestling  for  the  rich  provinces  of  central  and  south- 
ern Italy — a  prize  which  united  the  secular  appeal  to 
Catholic  Europe  with  supremacy  over  the  Mediter- 
ranean. The  Bourbons,  by  a  strange  chain  of  co- 
incidence, had  prevailed  in  Spain,  and  in  1731  "Baby 
Carlos  "  solemnly  entered  on  his  Italian  and  Sicilian 
heritage,  long  so  craftily  and  powerfully  compassed  by 
his  ambitious  mother,  Elizabeth  Farnese.  The  Haps- 
burgs, however,  never  relinquished  their  aim,  though 
the  weak  and  pompous  Emperor,  Charles  VI.,  was  re- 
duced to  spending  his  energies  on  the  mere  phantom  of 
the  "  Pragmatic  Sanction "  by  which  he  hoped  to 
cement  his  incoherent  Empire  in  the  person  of  his  mas- 
terful daughter;  he  died  hugging,  so  to  speak,  that 
"  Pragmatic  Sanction  "  to  his  heart.  Maria  Theresa 
proved  herself  the  heroine  of  Europe  in  her  proud 
struggle  with  the  Prussian  aggressor  who  for  a  time 
forced  her  into  an  unnatural  and  lukewarm  league 
with  the  French  Bourbons,  themselves  covetous  of 
the  Italian  Mediterranean.  Even  after  the  French 
Bourbons  were  quelled,  France,  in  the  person  of  Na- 
poleon, succeeded  to  their  ambitions.  Second  only  to 
his  hankering  after  Eastern  Empire,  was  from  the 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  99 

first  the  persistent  hankering  after  Naples  and  Sicily 
of  the  would-be  dominator  of  the  sea,  whose  coast 
had  been  his  cradle. 

Maria  Theresa  was  therefore  delighted  when  in 
April,  1768,  her  eldest  daughter,  Maria  Charlotte,  bet- 
ter known  as  "  Maria  Carolina,"  espoused,  when  barely 
sixteen  years  of  age,  Ferdinand,  son  of  the  Bourbon 
Charles  III.  of  Spain,  then  only  one  year  her  senior, 
and  already  from  his  eighth  year  King  of  the  Two 
Sicilies.  Still  more  did  she  rejoice  when  two  years 
later  her  other  daughter,  Marie  Antoinette,  married  at 
the  same  age  the  Due  de  Berri,  then  heir-presumptive 
to  the  French  throne,  which  he  ascended  four  years 
afterwards.  Both  daughters  were  to  fight  manfully 
with  a  fate  which  worsted  the  one  and  extinguished 
the  other,  while  the  husbands  of  both  were  true  Bour- 
bons in  their  indecision  and  their  love  of  the  table; 
for  of  the  Bourbons  it  was  well  said  that  their  chapel 
was  their  kitchen. 

"  King  "  Maria  Theresa  educated  all  her  children 
to  believe  in  three  things:  their  religion,  their  race, 
and  their  destiny.  They  were  never  to  forget  that 
they  were  Catholics,  imperialists,  and  politicians.  But 
she  also  taught  them  to  be  enlightened  and  benevolent, 
provided  that  their  faithful  subjects  accepted  the  grace 
of  these  virtues  unmurmuring  from  their  hands.  They 
were  to  be  monopolists  of  reform.  They  were  also 
to  be  monopolists  of  power;  nor  was  husband  or  wife 
to  dispute  their  sway.  Indeed,  the  two  daughters 
were  schooled  to  believe  that  control  over  their  con- 
sorts was  an  absolute  duty,  doubly  important  from 
the  rival  ascendency  wielded  by  the  Queens  of  the 
Spanish  Bourbons,  who  for  three  generations  had  been 
mated  with  imbecile  or  half-imbecile  sovereigns;  they 
had  a  knack  of  calling  their  husbands  cowards.  And 
they  were  to  be  monopolists  of  religion  even  against 

Memoirs — Vol.  11     1 


ioo  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

the  Pope  if  he  unduly  interfered.  These  lessons  were 
graven  on  the  hearts  of  all  but  Marie  Antoinette,  who 
shared  the  obstinacy  but  lacked  the  penetration  of  her 
sister  and  brothers. 

Maria  Theresa's  son  and  successor,  Joseph  II.  of 
Austria,  showed  to  the  full  this  union  of  bigotry 
and  benevolence,  both  arbitrary  yet  both  popular.  He 
and  his  premier,  Kaunitz,  were  strenuous  in  educa- 
tion and  reform,  but  also  strenuous  in  suppressing  the 
Jesuits.  His  brothers  were  the  same.  Archduke 
Ferdinand  played  the  benevolent  despot  in  Bohemia, 
while  Leopold,  afterwards  Grand  Duke  of  the  Tuscan 
dominions,  was  even  more  ostentatious  in  his  high- 
handed well-doing.  Never  \vas  a  dynasty  politer, 
more  cultivated,  more  affable.  But  never  also  was  one 
haughtier,  more  obstinate,  or  more  formal.  All  were 
martyrs  to  etiquette,  but  all  were  also  enthusiastic 
freemasons,  and  Queen  Maria  Carolina's  family  en- 
thusiasm for  the  secret  societies  of  ''  Illuminati " 
sowed  those  misfortunes  which  were  afterwards 
watered  with  blood,  reaped  in  tears,  and  harvested  by 
iron.  In  1790  Leopold,  for  a  space,  succeeded  to 
Joseph;  and  Maria  Carolina  was  afterwards  to  see  one 
of  her  sixteen  children  wedded  to  Francis,  Leopold's 
successor  on  the  Austrian  throne,  another  to  the  King 
of  Sardinia,  a  third,  in  the  midst  of  her  final  calamities, 
united  at  Palermo  to  the  future  Louis  Philippe.  She 
thus  became  mother-in-law  to  an  emperor  of  whom 
she  was  aunt,  as  well  as  to  two  monarchs ;  while  already 
she  had  been  sister  to  two  successive  emperors. 

Her  husband,  Ferdinand  IV.,  was  a  boor  and  bon 
vivant,  good-natured  on  the  surface,  but  with  a  strong 
spice  of  cruelty  beneath  it;  suspicious  of  talent,  but  up 
to  the  fatal  sequels  of  the  French  Revolution  the 
darling  of  his  people.  As  the  little  Prince  of  Asturias, 
he  had  been  handed  to  the  tutorship  of  the  old  Duke 


101 

of  San  Nicandro,  who  was  restricted  by  the  royal 
commands  to  instruction  in  sport,  and  in  his  own 
learning  to  a  bowing  acquaintance  with  his  breviary. 
Inheriting  a  throne,  while  a  child,  by  the  accident  of 
his  father's  accession  to  the  Spanish  crown,  he  had 
been  reared  in  Sicily — always  jealous  of  Naples — • 
under  the  tutelage  of  Prince  Caramanico,  a  minister 
of  opera  bouffe,  and  of  Tenucci,  a  corrupt  vizier  of  the 
old-world  pattern,  who  preferred  place  to  statesman- 
ship, and  pocket  to  power.  The  young  King,  how- 
ever, was  by  no  means  so  illiterate  or  unjust  as  has 
often  been  assumed,  and,  if  he  was  "  eight  years  old 
when  he  began  to  reign,"  the  rest  of  the  Scripture 
cannot  then,  at  any  rate,  be  justly  applied  to  him. 
He  remained  throughout  his  life  a  kind  of  Italianised 
Tony  Lumpkin,  addicted  to  cards  and  beauty,  de- 
voted to  arms  and  sport.  Indeed,  in  many  ways  he 
resembled  a  typical  English  squire  of  the  period,  as 
Lord  William  Bentinck  shrewdly  observed  of  him 
some  twenty-five  years  afterwards.  Music  was  also 
his  hobby.  He  sang  often,  but  scarcely  well;  and 
Emma,  when  he  first  began  to  practise  duets  with  her, 
humorously  remarked,  "  He  sings  like  a  King." 

The  people  that  he  loved,  and  who  adored  him, 
were  the  Neapolitan  Lazzaroni-  -not  beggars,  as  the 
name  implies,  but  loafing  artisans,  peasants,  and  fish- 
ermen, noisy,  loyal,  superstitious,  rollicking,  unthrifty, 
vigorous,  in  alternate  spasms  of  short-li  -ed  work  and 
easy  pleasure — the  natural  and  ineradicable  outcome 
of  their  sultry  climate,  their  mongrel  blood,  their  red- 
hot  soil,  and  their  pagan  past.  Motley  was  their  wear. 
As  happens  to  all  peculiar  peoples,  they  could  not  suf- 
fer or  even  fancy  alien  conditions.  When  the  Grand 
Duke  and  Duchess  of  Russia  visited  Naples  in  1782 
during  an  abnormal  spell  of  February  cold,  they  swore 
that  the  northerners  had  brought  the  accursed  weather 


102  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

with  them.  They  had  their  recognised  leaders,  their 
acknowledged  improvisatores,  their  informal  func- 
tions and  functionaries,  like  a  sort  of  unmigratory 
gypsy  tribe.  They  had  their  own  patois,  their  own 
customs,  their  own  songs,  their  favourite  monks.  Such 
was  the  famous  Padre  Giordano,  the  six-foot  portent 
of  a  handsome  priest,  the  best  preacher,  the  best  singer, 
the  best  eater  of  macaroni  in  the  King's  dominions. 
They  had,  too,  their  own  feuds,  in  a  country  where 
even  composers  like  Cimarosa  and  Paisiello  were  al- 
ways at  loggerheads  and  made  separate  factions  of 
their  own.  All  that  they  knew  of  England  before 
1793  was  that  their  own  Calabria  furnished  the  wood 
for  its  vaunted  ships.  With  the  Lazzaroni,  Ferdinand 
early  became  a  prime  favourite.  He  was  not  only 
their  king,  but  their  jolly  comrade.  He  was  a  Falstaff 
king,  even  in  his  gross  proportions;  a  king  of  mis- 
rule in  his  boisterous  humour.  He  was  a  Policinello 
king  whose  Bourbon  nose  won  him  the  sobriquet  of 
"  Nasone  "  from  his  mountebank  liegemen.  He  was 
a  Robin  Hood  king,  who  early  formed  his  own  free- 
booting  bodyguard;  he  was  also  King  Reynard  the 
Fox,  with  intervals  of  trick  and  avarice,  although,  un- 
like that  jungle-Mephistopheles,  Ferdinand  could  never 
cajole.  He  was,  in  truth,  both  cramped  and  spirited — 
"  a  lobster  crushed  by  his  shell,"  as  Beckford  once 
termed  him — despite  his  defects  both  real  and  im- 
puted, his  want  of  dignity,  his  phlegmatic  exterior  and 
his  rude  antics.  Every  Christmas  saw  him  in  his  box 
at  San  Carlo,  sucking  up  macaroni  sticks  for  their 
edification  from  a  steaming  basin  of  burnished  silver, 
while  the  Queen  discreetly  retired  to  a  back  seat. 
Every  Carnival  witnessed  him  in  fisher's  garb  playing 
at  fish-auctioneer  on  the  quay  which  served  as  market, 
bandying  personal  jests,  indulging  in  rough  horse- 
play, and  driving  preposterous  bargains  to  their  boister- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  103 

ous  delight.  This  picturesque  if  greasy  court  would 
strike  up  the  chorus  in  full  sight  of  their  macaroni 
monarch : — 

"  S'e  levata  la  gabella  alia  farina ! 
Evviva  Ferdinando  e  Carolina." 

He  loved  to  play  Haroun  Alraschid — to  do  justice  in 
the  gate — and,  when  hunting,  to  pay  surprise  visits 
to  the  cabins  of  the  peasantry  and  redress  their 
wrongs;  though  when  the  fit  was  on  him  he  could 
scourge  them  with  scorpions.  In  his  rambles  on  the 
beach  the  despot  would  toss  the  dirtiest  of  his  rough 
adherents  violently  into  the  sea,  and  if  he  could  not 
swim,  would  then  himself  plunge  into  the  water  and 
bring  him  laughing  from  his  first  bath  to  the  shore.. 
It  was  one  of  these  sallies  that  suggested  to  Canova 
his  marble  Hercules  throwing  Lichas  into  the  sea,  ac- 
quired by  the  bankers  Torlonia  before  they  were  styled 
princes;  and,  indeed,  the  coarser  side  of  Hercules 
as  Euripides  portrays  him  in  the  Alcestis  bears 
some  resemblance  to  this  uncouth  and  burly  Nim- 
rod. 

While  he  was  at  first  proud  of  his  femme  savante 
and  left  affairs  of  state  until  1799  almost  entirely  in 
her  hands  and  Acton's,  his  jealousy  tended  more  and 
more  to  treat  her  as  a  prccieuse  ridicule,  and  he  grew 
fond  of  asserting  his  mastery  by  playing  the 
Petruchio,  sometimes  to  brutality. 

For  a  long  time  he  was  pro-Spanish,  while  his 
wife  remained  pro- Austrian,  and  came  to  abominate 
Spanish  policy  more  than  ever  when  in  1778  Charles 
IV.  of  Spain  ascended  the  throne  with  a  caballing 
consort  whom  Maria  Carolina  detested.  Ferdinand 
boasted  that  his  people  were  happy  because  each  could 
find  subsistence  at  home,  and  the  time  was  still  distant 
when  to  the  proverb  on  his  name  of  "  Farina  "  and 


104  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

"  Feste,"  "  Forca  "  was  superadded.  If  he  pauper- 
ised his  people  with  farinaceous  morsels  and  festiv- 
ities, he  did  not  as  yet  execute  them.  Nor  was 
he  destitute  of  bluff  wit  and  exceedingly  common 
sense. 

There  is  a  familiar  anecdote  which  may  illustrate  his 
rough  and  ready  humour  as  well  as  his  favourite 
methods  of  government.  On  one  occasion  his  pedantic 
brother-in-law  Leopold  asked  Ferdinand  what  he  was 
"  doing  "  for  the  people.  "  Nothing  at  all,  which  is 
the  best,"  guffawed  the  King  in  answer;  "and  the 
proof  is  that  while  plenty  of  your  folk  go  wheedling 
and  begging  in  my  territory,  I  will  wager  anything, 
you  like  that  none  of  mine  are  soliciting  anything  in 
yours."  This  was  the  same  Leopold  whom  the  royal 
pair  visited  in  their  "  golden  journey  "  of  1785  which 
paraded  the  new  navy  organised  by  Acton. 

The  Queen,  however,  was  an  "  illuminata  "  by  bent 
and  upbringing.  She  was  always  devising  theories 
and  executing  schemes,  and  besides  literature,  botany, 
too,  engrossed  her  attention.  It  is  a  mistake  to  judge 
either  her  or  him  in  the  light  of  after  occurrences,  and 
it  is  an  error  as  misleading  to  judge  even  those  events 
by  the  evidence  of  Jacobin  litterateurs,  one  at  least 
among  the  most  violent  of  whom  did  not  hesitate  to 
recant.  It  was  only  long  afterwards  that  she  became 
lampooned,  and  that  the  "  head  of  a  Richelieu  on  a 
pretty  woman  "  was  held  up  to  execration  in  the  words 
of  the  ancient  diatribe  on  Catherine  of  Medicis : — 

"  Si  nous  faisons  1'apologie 

De  Caroline  et  Jezabel, 
L'une  fut  reine  en  Italic, 

Et  1'autre  reine  en  Israel. 
Celle-ci  de  malice  extreme, 
L'autre  etait  la  malice  meme." 1 

1  "  Would  casuists  find  excuses  try 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  105 

Neither  King  nor  Queen,  though  both  have  much 
to  answer  for  at  the  bar  of  history,  were  ever  the  pan- 
tomime-masks of  villainy  and  corruption  that  resent- 
ment and  rumour,  public  and  private,  have  affixed  to 
their  names. 

The  Queen's  full  influence  was  not  apparent  until 
the  birth  of  an  heir  in  1777,  when  by  a  clause  of 
her  marriage-settlement  she  became  entitled  to  sit  in 
council.  But  long  before,  she  had  begun  to  inspire 
reforms  very  distasteful  to  the  feudal  barons  who  at 
first  composed  her  court.  She  endeavoured  to  turn  a 
set  of  antiquated  prescriptions  into  a  freer  constitu- 
tion, and  to  cleanse  the  Neapolitan  homes.  She  limited 
the  feudal  system  of  rights — odious  to  the  people  at 
large — to  narrow  areas,  and  this  popular  limitation 
proved  long  afterwards  the  main  cause  of  the  nobil- 
ity's share  in  the  middle-class  revolution  of  1799.  The 
marriage  laws  were  re-cast  much  on  the  basis  of  Lord 
Hardwick's  Act  in  England.  The  administration  of 
justice  was  purified.  Besides  locating  the  University 
in  the  fine  rooms  of  the  suppressed  Jesuit  monastery, 
to  some  of  which  she  transferred  the  magnificent  an- 
tiques of  the  Farnese  and  Palatine  collections,  she 
founded  schools  and  new  institutions  for  the  encour- 
agement of  agriculture  and  architecture.  Even  the 
hostile  historian  Colletta  admits  that  she  drew  all  the 
intellect  of  the  age  to  Naples.  Waste  lands  were  re- 
claimed, colonies  planted  on  uninhabited  islands,  ex- 
isting industries  developed,  and  the  coral  fisheries  on 
the  African  coasts  converted  into  a  chartered  com- 

For  Caroline  and  Jezebel, 
The  one  was  queen  in  Italy, 
The  other,  queen  in  Israel. 
Extremes  of  malice  marked  the  second, 
Malice  itself  the  first  was  reckoned." 

Cf.  Crimes  et  Amours  des  Bourbons  de  Naples,  Paris,  Anon., 
1861. 


io6  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

pany.  The  evils  of  tax-gathering  were  obviated;  the 
ports  of  Brindisi  and  Baia  restored;  highways  were 
made  free  of  expense  for  the  poor;  tolerance  was  uni- 
versally proclaimed;  the  Pope's  right  to  nominate 
bishops  was  defied ;  nor  was  she  reconciled  to  Pius  VI. 
till  policy  compelled  her  to  kneel  before  him  in  her 
Roman  visit  of  1791.  At  the  period  now  before  us, 
most  of  the  pulpits  favoured  her.  Padre  Rocco,  the 
blunt  reformer  of  abuses,  Padre  Minasi,  the  musical 
archaeologist,  were  loud  in  her  praises.  And  this  de- 
spite the  fact  that,  though  regular  in  her  devotions 
and  the  reverse  of  a  free-thinker,  she  resolutely  op- 
posed the  "  crimping "  system  which  from  time  to 
time  reinforced  the  Neapolitan  convents.  She  also 
bitterly  offended  the  vested  rights  of  the  lawyers  and 
the  army.  An  enthusiast  for  freemasonry  (and  long 
after  her  death  the  Neapolitan  lodges  toasted  her 
memory),  she  assembled  around  her  through  these  so- 
cieties a  brilliant  throng  of  savants  and  poets,  while 
it  was  her  special  aim  to  elevate  the  intellects  of 
women.  Among  the  circle  of  all  the  talents  around 
her  were  the  great  economist  and  jurist  Filangieri, 
revered  by  Goethe,  but  dead  within  two  years  after 
Emma's  arrival ;  the  learned  and  ill-starred  Cirillo  and 
Pagano,  who  both  perished  afterwards  in  the  Revolu- 
tion; Palmieri,  Galanti,  Galiani,  Delfico,  the  scientists; 
Caravelli,  Caretto,  Falaguerra,  Ardinghelli,  Pigna- 
telli,  all  lights  of  literature;  and  Conforti,  the  his- 
torian. But  perhaps  the  most  interesting  of  all,  and 
the  most  typical,  was  Eleonora  de  Fonseca  Pimentel, 
subsequently  muse  and  victim  of  the  outburst  in 
1799. 

This  remarkable  poetess,  Portuguese  by  origin, 
merits  and  has  received  a  monograph.  Up  to  1793, 
indeed,  this  friend  and  disciple  of  Metastasio  was  the 
professed  eulogist  of  the  Queen.  She  styled  her 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

"  La  verace  virtute,  e  di  lei  figlio 
II  verace  valor."1 

She  joined  her  in  denouncing  "  Papal  vassalage  "  in 
Italy.  When  the  royal  bambino  died  in  1778  she  in- 
dited her  "  Orfeo  "  as  elegy.  When  the  "  golden  jour- 
ney "  was  accomplished,  the  Miseno  port  re-opened, 
and  the  fleet  re-organised,  her  "  Proteus  and 
Parthenope  "  celebrated  the  commencement  of  a  golden 
age.  But  what  most  aroused  her  enthusiasm  was  the 
foundation  of  that  singular  experiment  in  monarchical 
socialism — the  ideal  colony  of  San  Leucio  at  Caserta 
between  the  years  1777  and  1779.  This  settlement 
was  the  first-fruits  of  the  Queen's  socialism,  though  its 
occasion  was  the  King's  liking  for  his  hunting-box — 
built  in  1773  at  the  neighbouring  Belvedere,  and  on 
the  site  of  the  ancient  vineyard  and  palace  of  the  old 
Princes  of  Caserta.  A  church  was  erected  in  1776 
for  a  parish  governed  by  an  enlightened  code  of  duties 
"  negative  and  positive,"  and  even  then  numbering  no 
less  than  seventeen  families.  Some  of  the  royal  build- 
ings were  converted  into  schools ;  even  the  prayers  and 
religious  ordinances  were  regulated,  as  were  all  observ- 
ances of  the  hearth,  and  every  distribution  of  property. 
Allegiance  was  to  be  paid  first  to  God,  then  to  the 
sovereign,  and  lastly  to  the  ministers.  Under  Fer- 
dinand's nominal  authorship  a  book  of  the  aims,  orders, 
and  laws  of  the  colony  was  published,  of  which  a  copy 
exists  in  the  British  Museum.  On  its  flyleaf  Lady 
Hamilton  has  herself  recorded : — "  Given  to  me  by  the 
King  of  Naples  at  Belvedere  or  S.  Leucio  the  i6th  of 
May,  1793,  when  Sir  William  and  I  dined  with  his 
Majesty  and  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire,  Lady  Webster, 
Lady  Plymouth,  Lady  Bessborough,  Lady  E.  Foster, 
Sir  G.  Webster,  and  Mr.  Pelham.  Emma  Hamilton." 

'"True  virtue,  and  the  birth  of  virtue  true, 
True  courage." 


io8  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

These  names  are  in  no  accidental  association.  The 
then  and  the  future  Duchesses  of  Devonshire  headed  a 
galaxy  of  which  Charles  James  Fox  was  chief,  and  to 
which  Sir  William's  devotees,  Lady  "  Di  "  Beauclerk 
and  the  Honourable  Mrs.  Damer,  also  belonged. 

Eleonora's  ode  in  its  honour  hymns  the  "  royal 
city  "  where  "  nature's  noble  diadem  "  crowns  "  the 
spirit  of  ancient  Hellas." 

But  for  all  these  undertakings,  even  before  stress 
of  invasion  and  vengeance  for  wrongs  prompted  large 
armaments  and  an  English  alliance,  financial  talent 
of  a  high  order  was  needful;  taxation  had  to  be  broad- 
ened, and  it  could  not  be  enlarged  without  pressing 
heavily  on  the  professional  classes,  for  the  Lazzaroni 
were  always  privileged  as  exempt.  The  necessities 
which  led  to  the  shameful  tampering  with  the  banks 
in  1792-93  had  not  yet  arisen ;  but  organising  talent 
was  needed,  and  organising  talent  was  wanting. 
Tenucci  proved  as  poor  a  financier  as  once  our  own 
Godolphin  or  Dashwood.  Jealous  of  Carolina's  mani- 
fest direction,  he  caballed,  and  was  replaced  as  first 
minister  in  1776  by  the  phantom  Sambuca.  Even 
then  the  pro-Spanish  party  among  the  grandees 
menaced  the  succession  well-nigh  as  much  as  the  pro- 
Jacobins  did  some  five  years  later.  Even  then  it  was 
on  very  few  of  the  numberless  Neapolitan  nobles  (a 
"  golden  book "  of  whom  would  outdo  Venice  and 
equal  Spain)  that  the  perplexed  Queen  could  rely. 
Caramanico  was  a  mere  monument  of  the  past,  and  as 
such  consigned  to  England  as  ambassador;  while  his 
young  and  romantic  son  Joseph  was  reputed  the 
Queen's  lover,  and  forbidden  the  court.  The  cox- 
comb and  procrastinator,  Gallo,  who  afterwards  ratted 
to  Napoleon,  was  already  mismanaging  foreign  af- 
fairs. The  old  and  respectable  Caracciolo,  father  of 
that  rebel  admiral  whom  Nelson  was  to  execute,  was 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  109 

for  the  moment  Minister  of  Finance,  but  approaching 
his  end.  That  Admirable  Crichton,  Prince  Belmonte, 
afterwards  as  "  Galatone  "  ambassador  at  the  crucial 
post  of  the  Madrid  Embassy,  now  preferred  the  of- 
fice of  Chamberlain  to  any  active  direction  of  affairs. 
Prince  Castelcicala,  twice  ambassador  to  the  court 
of  St.  James's,  and  nearly  as  acceptable  to  the  Queen 
as  Belmonte,  had  not  yet  been  pressed  into  home  con- 
cerns, nor  had  he  disastrously  earned  his  inquisitorial 
spurs  of  1793.  Sicigniano,  who  was  to  commit  suicide 
when  ambassador  in  London  in  the  same  year,  be- 
longed to  the  same  category;  the  young  and  accom- 
plished Luigi  di  Medici  had  not  yet  emerged  into  a 
prominence  that  proved  his  doom.  Prince  Torella 
was  a  nonentity;  the  Rovere  family,  which  was  to 
supply  the  Sidney  or  Bayard  x  of  the  Revolution,  was 
not  now  of  political  significance.  The  professional 
classes  were  as  yet  excluded  from  government,  and 
creatures  like  the  notorious  Vanni  were  denied  power. 
Amid  the  general  dearth  the  excitable  Queen  was  at 
her  wit's  end  for  a  capable  minister.  During  her 
Vienna  and  Tuscan  visits  of  1778  she  consulted,  as 
always,  her  august  relations;  and  the  result  was  their 
recommendation  of  John  Francis  Edward  Acton,  whose 
younger  brother  had  for  some  time  been  serving  in  the 
Austrian  army.  In  consenting  to  the  trial  of  an  un- 
known man,  middle-aged  and  a  foreigner,  the  Queen 
hardly  realised  to  what  grave  issues  her  random  choice 
was  leading. 

Acton,  third  cousin  of  Sir  Richard  Acton  of  Alden- 
ham  Hall,  Shropshire,  to  whose  baronetcy  and  estates 
he  most  unexpectedly  succeeded  in  1791,  was  the  son 
of  a  physician,  Catholic  and  Jacobite,  settled  at  Besan- 
c,on.  He  was  born  in  1736,  and  may  have  first  entered 
the  French  Navy,  which  he  quitted  probably  as  a  cadet 
1  Prince  Ettore  Carafa. 


no  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

in  search  of  advancement,  and  not  because  of  the 
vague  discredits  afterwards  imputed  by  the  Jacobins. 
The  British  Navy  he  could  scarcely  have  contemplated, 
because  in  the  days  of  the  Georges  Catholicism  and 
Jacobitism  were  grave  impediments  to  success.  At 
the  age  of  thirty-nine  he  entered  the  naval  service  of 
Carolina's  brother,  the  Grand  Duke  Leopold  of 
Tuscany,  and  attracted  Caramanico's  notice  by  his 
bravery  as  Captain  on  a  Spanish  expedition  against 
the  Moors.  Summoned  by  a  stroke  of  luck  to  control 
a  realm  at  once  ambitious  and  sluggish,  he  infused 
English  energy  at  every  step.  A  martinet  by  train- 
ing and  disposition,  shrewd,  worldly,  calculating,  yet 
sturdy,  and  for  Naples,  where  gold  always  reigned, 
inflexibly  honest,  he  was  well  capable  of  defying  and 
brow-beating  the  supple  Neapolitan  nobility  who  de- 
tested his  introduction.  A  smooth-tongued  adven- 
turer, though  good  looks  were  not  on  his  side,  he 
speedily  won  the  favour  of  a  Queen  inclined  to  make 
tools  of  favourites,  and  favourites  of  tools;  but  he 
soon  convinced  her  also  that  a  mere  tool  he  could  never 
remain.  He  was  naturally  pro-British,  and  Britain 
was  already  a  Mediterranean  power :  Acton  recom- 
mended the  country  of  his  origin  to  the  Queen's  notice 
in  the  veriest  trifles.  It  was  not  many  years  before 
Maria  Carolina  was  driving  in  the  English  curricle 
which  Hamilton  had  provided  for  her.  Little  else 
than  a  stroke  of  destiny,  under  the  conjunctures  of  the 
near  future,  brought  the  new  foreigner  into  close  al- 
liance with  Sir  William  Hamilton,  whose  patriotism  in 
the  very  year  when  he  was  lolling  with  Sir  Horace 
Mann  at  Portici  had  expressed  itself  in  a  fervent  wish 
to  see  France  "  well  drubbed,"  and  a  fury  at  the 
non-support  of  Rodney  by  Government.  The  differ- 
ent natures  of  the  two  perhaps  cemented  their  friend- 
ship. Hamilton  for  all  his  natural  indolence  could 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  in 

rise  to  emergency ;  Acton,  on  the  contrary,  was  all  com- 
promise and  caution — a  sort  of  Robert  Walpole  in 
little,  with  "  steady  "  for  his  motto.  Hamilton  was 
good-tempered  to  a  fault:  Emma  wrote  of  him  after 
her  marriage  that  he  preferred  "  good  temper  to 
beauty."  In  Acton  lay  a  strong  spice  of  the  bully, 
and  he  could  be  very  unjust  if  his  authority  was  im- 
pugned. He  was  a  born  bureaucrat,  and  it  was  his 
love  of  bureaucracy,  as  will  appear,  that  ruined  the 
Queen. 

Acton's  only  marriage  occurred  in  his  old  age  with 
his  young  niece,  by  papal  dispensation  in  1805,  as  Pet- 
tigrew  has  recorded.  His  brother  Joseph's  descend- 
ants are  still  at  Naples.  But  none  of  his  family  play 
any  part  in  the  drama  before  us.  Starting  as  an  Ad- 
miral of  the  Neapolitan  Fleet,  he  soon  became  Min- 
ister both  of  Marine  and  War.  Caracciolo  the  elder's 
opportune  transference  to  diplomacy  in  Paris  and  Lon- 
don, which  Acton's  future  libellers  accused  him  of 
contriving,  as  afterwards  even  of  causing  his  death, 
installed  him  as  Minister  of  Finance.  He  at  once  ad- 
vised the  institution  of  thirteen  Commissioners  who 
could  all  be  censured  in  event  of  failure;  "divide  et 
impera"  was  his  principle;  and  at  first  his  resource 
proved  successful.  He  was  soon  made  also  a  Lieuten- 
ant-General ;  while  some  ten  years  later,  in  his  heyday, 
he  was  appointed  Captain-General,  and  at  last  a  full- 
blown Field-Marshal.  But  long  before,  he  blossomed 
into  power  with  the  Queen,  whose  anti-Spanish  policy 
chimed  with  his  own,  and  whose  abhorrence  of  the 
pro-Spanish  functionaries  around  her  required  a 
champion  in  council.  This  created  two  camps  in  the 
court,  for  up  to  1796  the  King  was  pro-Spanish  to 
the  core.  But  the  Queen  was  already  predominant, 
and  it  was  soon  bruited  that  the  Latin  "  hie,  hac,  hoc  " 
meant  Acton,  the  Queen,  and  the  King  thus  derided 


112 

as  neuter ;  indeed  some  added  that  Acton  was  "  hie, 
hose,  hoc  "  in  one.  In  a  brief  space  Acton  had  con- 
solidated a  powerful  fleet — which  in  1793  he  was  able 
to  despatch  in  aid  of  the  English  at  Toulon — and  a 
formidable  army.  The  French  events  of  1789  ren- 
dered him  all  the  more  indispensable  to  Maria  Caro- 
lina, whose  ears  were  terrified  by  the  first  rumblings 
of  an  earthquake  so  soon  to  engulf  her  sister's  fam- 
ily. The  Bastille  was  taken,  the  Assembly  held,  and 
fawning  false-loyalty  loomed  fully  as  dangerous  as  up- 
roarious Jacobinism.  In  the  same  year  America  estab- 
lished her  "  Constitution."  Already  the  aunts  of 
Louis  XVI.,  the  two  old  "  demoiselles  de  France," 
were  on  the  verge  of  abandoning  Paris  for  Rome; 
already  the  charged  air  tingled  with  'Liberty,  Equal- 
ity, Fraternity;  already  Carolina,  masking  hysterical 
restiveness  by  imperious  composure,  was  debating  if 
armed  help  were  possible  from  Austria  as  well  as 
from  Naples.  But  the  irritated  barons  were  unwar- 
like,  the  King  cared  little,  the  lawyers  still  depended  on 
his  favour,  the  intelligent  middle-class  was  beginning 
to  welcome  the  Gallic  doctrines.  Austria,  too,  was  by 
no  means  ready.  And  yet  in  Carolina's  ears  the  hour 
of  doom  was  already  striking.  She  longed  for  an 
untemporising  deliverer,  a  self-sacrificing  friend,  a 
leader  of  men  and  movements;  and  as  she  longed  and 
champed  in  vain,  she  could  only  wait  and  hope  and 
prepare.  Her  anxiety  was  not  that  of  a  normal 
woman.  Calm  in  mind,  in  love  and  hate  her  ardour 
ran  to  extremes.  Though  she  owned  a  far  better  head 
than  her  unhappy  sister,  her  heart,  outside  her  home 
and  in  spite  of  her  passions,  was  far  colder.  She  was 
truly  devoted  to  her  children,  she  was  fond  of  romp- 
ing even  with  the  children  of  strangers ;  and  yet  when 
her  sons-in-law  grew  lukewarm  in  aiding  her,  she 
could  rage  against  her  daughters.  Jealousy  of  her 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  113 

ogling  and  dangling  consort  was  often  a  prime  mo- 
tive for  her  actions;  and  yet  she  had  often  been 
fern  me  galante,  and  was  ever  bent  on  mystery  and 
intrigue.  She  harped  on  duty,  but  her  notions  of 
duty  rested  on  maintaining  the  royal  birthright  of 
her  house.  Masterful  as  her  mother,  light-living  as 
her  eldest  brother,  she  was  neither  hard  nor  frivolous. 
She  could  be  both  ice  and  fire.  Her  strange  tem- 
perament combined  the  poles  with  the  equator. 

The  year  1789  proved  critical  for  Emma  also.  It 
brought  to  Naples,  among  other  illustrious  visitors, 
the  good  and  gracious  Duchess  of  Argyll,  formerly 
Duchess  of  Hamilton,  who,  as  the  beautiful  Miss  Gun- 
ning, had  years  before  taken  England,  and  indeed 
Europe,  by  storm.  She  had  come  southward  for  her 
health.  Her  first  marriage  had  related  her  to  Sir 
William,  and  no  sooner  had  she  set  eyes  on  Emma  than 
she  not  only  countenanced  her  in  public  but  conceived 
for  her  the  most  admiring  and  intimate  friendship. 
Hitherto  the  English  ladies  had  been  coldly  civil,  but 
under  the  lead  of  the  Duchess  they  now  began  to  fol- 
low the  Italian  vogue  of  sounding  her  praises.  Emma 
became  the  fashion.  It  was  already  whispered  that 
she  was  secretly  married  to  the  Ambassador,  and  had 
she  been  his  wife  she  could  scarcely  have  been  more 
heartily,  though  she  would  have  been  more  openly,  ac- 
cepted. Her  request  that  she  might  accompany  Sir 
William,  the  King,  and  Acton  on  one  of  their  long 
and  rough  sporting  journeys  had  been  gladly  granted. 
She  had  attended  her  deputy-husband  on  his  equally 
rough  antiquarian  ramble  through  Puglia,  made  in 
the  spring  of  1789.  "  She  is  so  good,"  he  informed 
Greville,  "  there  is  no  refusing  her."  By  the  spring  of 
1790  not  only  the  Duchess  but  the  whole  Argyll  fam- 
ily lavished  kindness  on  the  extraordinary  girl  whom 


U4  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

they  must  have  respected.  The  new  Spanish  ambas- 
sador's wife  also  had  become  her  intimate  friend. 
Madame  Le  Brun,  too,  repaired  in  the  wake  of  the 
French  troubles  to  Naples,  and  was  besieged  for  por- 
traits. Madame  Skavonska,  the  Russian  ambassador's 
handsome  wife,  so  empty-headed  that  she  squandered 
her  time  in  vacancy  on  a  sofa,  was  her  first  sitter. 
Emma,  brought  by  the  eager  Hamilton,  was  the  sec- 
ond, and  during  her  sittings  she  was  accompanied  by 
the  Prince  of  Monaco  and  the  Duchess  of  Fleury. 
Madame  Le  Brun,  herself  by  no  means  devoid  both 
of  jealousy  and  snobbishness,  raved  of  her  beauty, 
but  formed  no  opinion  of  her  brain,  while  she  found 
her  "  supercilious."  This  is  curious,  for  by  common 
consent  Emma  gave  herself  no  airs;  she  conciliated 
all.  But  though  never  a  parvenue  in  her  affections, 
she  could  often  behave  as  such  in  her  dislikes;  and 
her  self-assertiveness  could  always  combat  jealous  or 
freezing  condescension.  Her  improvement  both  in 
knowledge  and  behaviour  had  from  other  accounts 
enhanced  her  accomplishments.  No  breath  of  scan- 
dal had  touched  her;  she  was  Hamilton's  unwedded 
wife,  and  her  looks  had  kept  even  pace  with  her  for- 
ward path  in  many  directions:  she  was  fairer  than 
ever  and  far  less  vain.  The  Queen  herself  already 
pointed  to  her  as  an  example  for  the  court,  to  which, 
however,  Emma  could  not  gain  formal  admittance  until 
the  marriage  which  she  had  predicted  in  1786  had  been 
duly  solemnised.  For  that  desired  climax  everything 
now  paved  the  way.  Each  night  in  the  season  she  re- 
ceived fifty  of  the  elite  at  the  Embassy,  till  in  Janu- 
ary, 1791,  her  success  was  crowned  by  a  concert  and 
reception  of  unusual  splendour.  The  stars  of  San 
Carlo  performed.  The  court  ladies  vied  with  each 
other  in  jewels  and  attire.  The  first  English,  as  well 
as  the  first  Neapolitans,  thronged  every  room;  there 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  115 

were  some  four  hundred  guests.  Emma  herself  was 
conspicuously  simple.  Amid  the  blaze  of  gems  and 
colours  she  shone  in  white  satin,  set  off  by  the  natural 
hues  only  of  her  hair  and  complexion. 

And  yet  she  was  not  elated.  Her  one  study,  her 
single  aim,  she  wrote  to  Greville,  were  to  render  Sir 
William,  on  whom  she  "  doated,"  happy.  She  would 
be  the  "  horridest  wretch  "  else.  They  had  already 
passed  nearly  five  years  together,  "  with  all  the  do- 
mestick  happiness  that's  possible." 

Was  there  any  rift  within  the  lute?  If  so,  it  lay  in 
Greville's  attitude.  He  opened  his  eyes  and  sighed 
as  he  read  of  Emma's  virtuous  glory;  and  he  opened 
them  still  wider  when  she  assured  him  of  her  "  esteem  " 
for  "  having  been  the  means  of  me  knowing  him,"  and 
added  "  next  year  you  may  pay  ous  a  visit."  That 
Sir  William  should  marry  her  quite  passed  the  bounds 
of  his  philosophy;  there  would  be  an  eclat,  and  eclats 
he  detested ;  his  uncle  would  make  himself  ridiculous. 
It  seems  likely,  from  an  allusion  in  a  letter  from  Ham- 
ilton of  a  full  year  earlier,  that  the  nephew  had  al- 
ready thrown  out  hints  of  suitable  provision  should 
chance  or  necessity  ever  separate  the  couple.  Sir  Will- 
iam, however,  had  been  deaf  to  such  suggestions,  al- 
though, "  thinking  aloud,"  he  did  mention  £150  a 
year  to  Emma,  and  £50  to  her  mother,  "  who  is  a  very 
worthy  woman."  Such  contingencies,  however,  could 
not  apply  to  their  present  "  footing,"  for  "  her  con- 
duct was  such  as  to  gain  her  universal  esteem."  The 
only  chance  for  such  a  scheme  hinged  on  her  per- 
tinacity in  pressing  him  to  marry  her.  "  I  fear,"  he 
continued,  "  that  her  views  are  beyond  what  I  can 
bring  myself  to  execute,  and  that  when  her  hopes  on 
this  point  are  over,  she  will  make  herself  and  me  un- 
happy." But  he  recoiled  from  the  thought;  despite 
the  difference  in  their  ages  and  antecedents,  "  hitherto 


ii6  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

her  conduct  is  irreproachable,  but  her  temper,  as  you 
must  know,  unequal." 

And  now  all  these  obstacles  had  melted  under  the 
enchanter's  wand,  it  would  seem,  of  the  charming 
Duchess,  who  may  well  have  urged  him  to  defy  con- 
vention and  make  Emma  his  wife.  Sir  William's 
fears  were  not  for  Naples,  nor  wholly  for  Greville, 
who  might  laugh  if  he  chose.  They  were  rather  for 
the  way  in  which  his  foster-brother,  King  George,  and 
his  Draco-Queen,  might  receive  such  news,  and  how 
they  might  eventually  manifest  their  displeasure;  the 
Ambassador,  however  much  and  often  he  was  wont 
to  bewail  his  fate,  had  no  notion  of  retiring  to  absurd 
obscurity.  But  these  objections  also  seem  to  have 
been  equally  dispersed  by  the  fairy  godmother  of  a 
Duchess  who  was  bent  on  raising  Cinderella  to  the 
throne;  and  although  Queen  Charlotte  eventually  re- 
fused to  receive  Lady  Hamilton,  yet  Sir  William's 
imminent  return  was  in  fact  signalised  by  the  honour 
of  a  privy  councillorship.  Long  afterwards,  he  as- 
sured Greville  that  his  treatment  when  he  was  eventu- 
ally replaced,  and  subsequently  when  he  was  denied 
reimbursement  for  his  losses  and  his  services  (both 
to  go  fully  as  unrewarded  as  his  wife's),  was  not 
due  to  the  king  but  to  his  ministers.  Moreover,  his 
two  old  Eton  School  friends,  Banks  and  the  ubiquitous 
Lord  Bristol,  Bishop  of  Derry,  had  signified  their  ap- 
proval. The  latter  in  his  peregrinations  had  already 
worshipped  at  Emma's  Neapolitan  shrine — a  devotee  at 
once  generous  and  money-grubbing,  cynical  and  in- 
genuous, constant  and  capricious,  who  (in  Lady  Ham- 
ilton's words)  "  dashed  at  everything,"  and  who  was 
so  eccentric  as  to  roam  Caserta  in  a  gay  silk  robe 
and  a  white  hat.  This  original — a  miniature  mix- 
ture of  Peterborough,  Hume,  and,  one  might  add, 
Thackeray's  Charles  Honeyman — had  braced  Hamil- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  117 

ton's  resolution  by  telling  him  it  was  "  fortitude  "  and 
a  "  manly  part "  to  brave  a  stupid  world  and  secure 
Emma's  happiness  and  his  own.  Sir  William,  whose 
inclination  struggled  with  Greville's  prudence,  could 
not  gainsay  his  friends  who  echoed  the  wishes  of  his 
heart.  And  all  this  must  have  been  furthered  by  the 
Duchess  of  Argyll. 

No  wonder  that  her  sad  death  at  the  close  of  1790, 
far  away  from  the  climate  which  had  proved  power- 
less to  save  her,  desolated  Emma.  "  I  never,"  she  as- 
sured Greville,  who  already  knew  of  their  home- 
coming in  the  spring,  "  I  never  had  such  a  f  reind  as 
her,  and  that  you  will  know  when  I  see  you,  and  re- 
count ...  all  the  acts  of  kindness  she  shew'd  to  me : 
for  they  where  too  good  and  numerous  to  describe  in  a 
letter.  Think  then  to  a  heart  of  gratitude  and  sensi- 
bility what  it  must  suffer.  Ma  passienza:  io  ho 
molto." 

The  marriage  project  was  first  to  visit  Rome,  where 
they  would  meet  the  Queen,  about  to  be  reconciled  to 
the  Pope,  on  her  homeward  journey  from  Vienna. 
Then  to  repair  to  Florence,  where  they  could  take  a 
short  leave  both  of  her  and  the  King;  and  thence  to 
Venice,  where  they  were  to  encounter,  besides  many 
English,  the  cream  of  the  flying  French  noblesse,  in- 
cluding the  Counts  of  Artois  and  Vaudreuil,  the  Poli- 
gnacs,  and  Calonne.  Before  May  was  over  they  would 
be  in  London,  and  there,  if  things  went  smoothly,  the 
wedding  should  take  place.  Emma's  heart  must  have 
throbbed  when  she  reflected  on  the  stray  hazards  that 
might  still  wreck  that  happiness  for  which  she  had 
long  pined,  and  overthrow  the  full  cup  just  as  it 
neared  her  lips. 

Greville  was  unaware  of  the  dead  secret,  but  he  im- 
plored Emma  not  to  live  in  London  as  she  had  done  in 
Naples;  he  pressed  the  propriety  of  separate  establish- 


u8 

ments.  Emma  laughed  him  to  scorn.  The  friend  of 
the  late  Duchess  and  her  friends  could  afford  to  flout 
insular  opinion.  But  she  laughed  too  soon:  had  she 
been  wiser  she  might  possibly  have  propitiated  the 
Queen  of  England  by  discretion.  It  further  happened 
that  Greville's  official  friend  and  Emma's  old  ac- 
quaintance, Heneage  Legge,  met  and  spied  on  the 
happy  pair  at  Naples,  just  before  he  and  they  left  for 
Rome;  he  promptly  reported  progress  to  Greville,  who 
had  plainly  asked  for  enlightenment.  The  unsuspect- 
ing Hamilton  called  on  Legge  immediately  to  proffer 
him  every  friendly  service.  Mrs.  Legge  was  in  del- 
icate health,  and  Emma,  too,  kindly  offered  to  act 
as  her  companion,  or  even  nurse.  Legge  was  embar- 
rassed; his  wife  civilly  declined  Emma's  attentions, 
"  kindly  intended,"  but  owing  to  Emma's  "  former 
line  of  life  "  impossible  to  accept.  These  proprieties 
confirmed  Sir  William's  determination,  and  aroused 
Emma's  ire.  The  one  was  accustomed  to  observe  that 
the  "  reformed  rake  "  proverb  applied  fully  as  much 
to  a  woman  as  a  man.  The  other  felt  herself  morti- 
fied and  insulted  just  when  her  virtues  rang  on  every 
lip.  If  the  frail  Lady  Craven,  for  instance,  were  good 
enough  to  touch  the  hem  of  Mrs.  Legge's  garments, 
why  not  Emma,  who  had  rashly  hastened  to  be  kind? 
Legge  must  tell  the  rest  himself:  "  Her  influence  over 
him  exceeds  all  belief.  .  .  .  The  language  of  both 
parties,  who  always  spoke  in  the  plural  number — we, 
us,  and  ours — stagger'd  me  at  first,  but  soon  made  me 
determined  to  speak  openly  to  him  on  the  subject, 
when  he  assur'd  me,  what  I  confess  I  was  most  happy 
to  hear,  that  he  was  not  married;  but  flung  out  some 
hints  of  doing  justice  to  her  good  behaviour,  if  his 
public  situation  did  not  forbid  him  to  consider  himself 
an  independent  man.  .  .  .  She  gives  everybody  to  un- 
derstand that  he  is  now  going  to  England  to  solicit 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  119 

the  K.'s  consent  to  marry  her.  ...  I  am  confident 
she  will  gain  her  point,  against  which  it  is  the  duty 
of  every  friend  to  strengthen  his  mind  as  much  as 
possible;  and  she  will  be  satisfied  with  no  argument 
but  the  King's  absolute  refusal  of  his  approbation. 
Her  talents  and  powers  of  amusing  are  very  wonder- 
full.  Her  voice  is  very  fine,  but  she  does  not  sing 
with  great  taste,  and  Aprili  [sic]  says  she  has  not  a 
good  ear;  her  Attitudes  are  beyond  description  beau- 
tifull  and  striking,  and  I  think  you  will  find  her  figure 
much  improved  since  you  last  saw  her.  They  say  they 
shall  be  in  London  by  the  latter  end  of  May,  that 
their  stay  in  England  will  be  as  short  as  possible, 
and  that,  having  settled  his  affairs,  he  is  determined 
never  to  return.  She  is  much  visited  here  by  ladies 
of  the  highest  rank,  and  many  of  the  corps  diploma- 
tique; does  the  honours  of  his  house  with  great  atten- 
tion and  desire  to  please,  but  wants  a  little  refinement 
of  manners  in  which  ...  I  wonder  she  has  not  made 
greater  progress.  I  have  all  along  told  her  that  she 
could  never  change  her  situation,  and  that  she  was  a 
happier  woman  as  Mrs.  H.  than  she  wou'd  be  as 
Lady  H.,  when  more  reserved  behaviour  being 
necessary,  she  wou'd  be  depriv'd  of  half  her  amuse- 
ments." 

Sound  sense  enough,  but  most  unlikely  to  convince 
Emma's  self-confidence.  Mrs.  Legge,  too,  and  after- 
wards Queen  Charlotte,  were  justified  in  excom- 
municating Emma  before  her  marriage ;  such  decencies 
are  concerns  of  precedent,  the  etiquette  of  morality. 
But  it  is  surely  a  cruel  and  un-Christian  precedent,  to 
set  up  without  exception  that  a  girl  who  had  raised 
and  trained  herself  as  Emma  had  done  should  be  de- 
barred from  the  possibility  of  legitimate  retrieval. 
Such  standards  savour  far  more  of  the  world  than  of 
1  Morrison  MS.  190 ;  Legge  to  Greville,  Naples,  March  8,  1791. 


120  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Heaven.  And,  at  all  events,  it  must  be  conceded 
that  at  this  period  Emma,  who  had  been  beloved  not 
only  by  the  Duchesses  of  Argyll  and  Devonshire,  but 
by  such  young  ladies  as  Miss  Carr,  could  not  possibly 
have  hurt  or  soiled  the  British  matron.  There  may 
well  have  been  quite  as  much  unamiable  envy  as  in- 
jured innocence  in  the  blank  refusal  to  let  her  show 
that  she  was  a  kind  and  helpful  woman,  even  though 
she  had  not  always  been  irreproachable. 

London  was  reached  at  last,  and  the  King's  re- 
luctant sanction  obtained.  They  were  feted  and  en- 
tertained by  the  Marquis  of  Abercorn,  by  Beckford  at 
Fonthill,  and  by  the  Duke  of  Queensberry,  who  gave 
a  brilliant  concert  at  Richmond  in  their  honour,  where 
Emma  herself  performed.  But  her  chief  delight  was 
her  reunion  with  those  art  coteries  where  she  had  ever 
felt  herself  freest  and  most  at  home.  One  of  her  first 
visits  was  to  Cavendish  Square.  On  a  June  morning 
she  surprised  Romney — an  apparition  in  "  Turkish 
dress  " — while  he  was  ailing  and  melancholy.  Neither 
his  trip  in  the  previous  year,  nor  the  warm  friendship 
of  Hayley,  who  had  now  fitted  up  a  studio  for  him 
at  Eartham,  could  exorcise  the  demon  of  dejection 
which  brooded  over  him.  The  wonderful  girl  whose 
career  he  had  watched  afar,  cheered  him  back  to  his 
former  source  of  inspiration.  His  letters  to  Hayley 
of  this  date  are  full  of  her.  She  was  eager  that  her 
old  friend  should  recognise  that  she  was  "  still  the 
same  Emma."  She  sat  for  him  constantly,  and  be- 
sides his  many  other  studies  and  portraits  of  her,  he  at 
once  made  her  the  model  of  his  Joan  of  Arc,  the  idea 
of  which  his  recent  journey  across  the  Channel  had 
suggested.  Both  this  and  a  "  Magdalen  "  were  com- 
missioned by  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  seems  to  have 
met  her  at  the  Duke  of  Queensberry's.  He  painted 
her  as  "  Cassandra,"  he  designed  to  paint  her  as  "  Con- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  121 

stance,"  he  commenced  a  fresh  "  Bacchante."  He 
dined  with  her  and  Sir  William,  and  they  both  dined 
thrice  with  him,  first  in  July  and  afterwards  in  August. 
He  broke  his  rule  of  solitude  in  order  that  "  several 
people  of  fashion  "  might  behold  the  performances  of 
one  whom  he  declared  "  superior  to  all  womankind." 
She  in  her  turn  begged  him  to  let  Hayley  set  about 
writing  his  life.  All  that  she  did  or  said  fascinated 
him;  and  the  fondest  father,  remarks  his  biographer, 
could  not  have  taken  a  keener  pleasure  in  the  marriage 
of  a  favourite  daughter  than  did  Romney  in  her  im- 
minent wedding.  Her  acting  and  singing  so  trans- 
ported him,  that  he  was  on  the  point  of  posting  off 
near  midnight  to  fetch  Hayley  from  Eartham.  "  She 
performed  both  in  the  serious  and  comic  to  admira- 
tion :  but  her  '  Nina  '  " — a  part  two  years  later  the 
especial  delight  of  Maria  Carolina — "  surpasses  every- 
thing I  ever  saw,  and  I  believe,  as  a  piece  of  acting, 
nothing  ever  surpassed  it.  The  whole  company  were 
in  an  agony  of  sorrow.  Her  acting  is  simple,  grand, 
terrible,  and  pathetic."  It  was  this  power  of  moving 
others  that,  according  to  a  tradition  often  repeated 
by  the  late  Sir  Francis  Hastings  Doyle,  once  so  worked 
on  Nelson  ten  years  afterwards,  that  he  walked  up 

and    down    the  crowded    room    muttering,    "  D 

Mrs.  Siddons !  "  with  whom  somebody  had  contrasted 
her.  On  the  occasion  just  mentioned  Gallini,  the  im- 
presario, offered  her  £2000  a  year  and  two  benefits  "  if 
she  would  engage  with  him  " ;  but,  in  Romney 's  words, 
"  Sir  William  said  pleasantly  that  he  had  engaged 
her  for  life." 

For  a  few  weeks  Romney  fancied  her  attitude 
towards  him  altered ;  the  mere  suspicion  disquieted  his 
nerves,  but  the  cloud  was  soon  dispelled.  Meanwhile 
Hayley,  who  was  to  compose  a  fresh  poem  on  her  just 
before  her  wedding,  indited  the  following: 


122  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

"Gracious  Cassandra!  whose  benign  esteem 

To  my  weak  talent  every  aid  supplied, 
Thy  smile  to  me  was  inspiration's  beam, 
Thy  charms  my  model,  and  thy  taste  my  guide. 

But  say !  what  cruel  clouds  have  darkly  chilled 
Thy  favour,  that  to  me  was  vital  fire? 

O  let  it  shine  again !  or  worse  than  killed, 
Thy  soul-sunk  artist  feels  his  art  expire." 

On  her  very  wedding  day  Emma  sat  for  the  last 
time  to  the  great  artist  for  that  noble  portrait  of  her 
as  the  "  Ambassadress,"  and  she  and  her  husband 
"  took  a  tender  leave  "  of  one  inseverable  from  her  for 
ever. 

Hamilton  and  she  were  the  talk  of  the  town.  When 
they  drove  out  or  went  to  parties,  or  entered  the  box 
at  Drury  Lane,  every  eye  was  upon  them,  and  it  was 
at  Drury  Lane  that  the  acting  of  Jane  Powell  brought 
together  the  two  former  mates  in  servitude  as  the  ad- 
mired of  all  beholders. 

All  this  must  have  nettled  Greville,  of  whose  feel- 
ings at  this  time  there  is  no  record.  But  his  opposi- 
tion does  not  seem  to  have  been  serious,  for  Sir  Will- 
iam and  Emma  passed  their  time  in  a  round  of  visits  to 
the  whole  circle  of  his  relations,  who  were  mostly 
her  keen  partisans.  Lord  Abercorn,  indeed,  went  so 
far  as  to  protest  that  her  personality  had  "  made  it 
impossible  "  for  him  "  to  see  or  hear  without  making 
comparisons  " ;  and  from  this  time  forward  Lord  Will- 
iam Douglas  also  became  Emma's  lifelong  upholder. 
The  summer  of  1791  was  unusually  hot,  and  from  the 
latter  part  of  July  to  mid- August  they  stayed  with 
relatives  in  the  country,  including  Beckford,  when 
Emma  for  the  first  time  beheld  the  Oriental  and  the 
Gothic  glories,  the  mounting  spire,  the  magic  ter- 
races, the  fairy  gardens,  and  all  the  bizarre  splendours, 
including  its  owner,  of  Fonthill  Abbey. 

On  the  whole,  this  delicate  experiment  had  sue- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  123 

ceeded,  although  Queen  Charlotte's  ban  doubtless 
rankled  in  Emma's  breast.1  The  King  himself  was 
more  pained  than  offended,  and  had  confirmed  Ham- 
ilton in  the  security  of  his  appointment. 

Nor  was  it  only  grand  folks  or  old  friends  that 
Emma  had  frequented.  It  is  clear  from  allusions  in 
shortly  subsequent  letters  that  both  she  and  her  mother 
visited  that  "  poor  little  Emma  "  who  had  re-awakened 
the  longings  of  motherhood  in  the  old  but  unfor'got- 
ten  days  of  Parkgate. 

On  September  6th  Sir  William  and  "  Emy,"  or 
"  Emily,"  Lyon  were  duly  wedded  at  Marylebone 
Church,  long  associated  with  the  Hamilton  family. 
The  marriage  was  solemnised  by  the  Rev.  Doctor  Ed- 
ward Barry,  rector  of  Elsdon,  Northumberland.  The 
witnesses  were  Lord  Abercorn  and  L.  Dutens,  sec- 
retary to  the  English  Minister  at  Turin,  with  whom 
Emma  long  maintained  a  faithful  friendship.  Her 
heart  was  overflowing.  She  felt,  as  she  told  Rom- 
ney,  so  grateful  to  her  husband,  so  glad  in  restored 
innocence  and  happiness,  that  she  would  "  never  be 
able  to  make  "  him  "  amends  for  his  goodness."  They 
started  homeward  by  way  of  Paris,  where  they  were 
to  see  for  the  first  and  last  time  that  tortured  Queen 
who  was  fast  completing  the  tragedy  of  her  doom. 
Henceforward  the  name  of  "  Hart "  is  heard  no 
more.  Henceforward  Emma  is  no  longer  obscure, 
but,  as  Lady  Hamilton,  passes  into  history. 

'The  Queen  would  never  receive  Lady  Hamilton  even  after 
the  return  of  the  Hamiltons  to  England,  and  Nelson  will  be 
found  angry  that  Sir  William  would  go  to  court  alone;  cf.  post, 
chap.  xii. 


CHAPTER  V 

TILL   THE    FIRST    MEETING 
I79I-I793 

EDY  HAMILTON  returned  to  bask  in  social 
favour.  It  was  not  only  the  Neapolitan  noblesse 
and  the  English  wives  that  courted  and  caressed 
her.  Their  young-  daughters  also  vied  with  each  other 
in  attentions,  and  vowed  that  never  was  any  one  so 
amiable  and  accomplished  as  this  eighth  wonder. 
Among  these  was  a  Miss  Carr,  who  not  long  after- 
wards married  General  Cheney,  an  Aide-de-Camp  to 
the  Duke  of  York,  during  the  next  few  years  more 
than  once  a  visitor  at  Naples.  The  writer  possesses 
a  miniature  in  water-colour,  drawn  by  this  young  lady, 
of  the  friend  to  whom  she  long  remained  attached. 
Emma  sits,  clad  all  in  white,  with  an  air  of  sweetness 
and  repose.  At  the  back  of  this  memento  she  has 
herself  recorded:  "Emma  Hamilton,  Naples,  Feb.  n, 
1792.  I  had  the  happiness  of  my  dear  Miss  Carr's 
company  all  day ;  but,  alas,  the  day  was  too  short." 

There  is  nothing  in  this  likeness  to  betoken  the  pur- 
pose and  ambition  which  she  was  shortly  to  display 
in  the  side-scenes  of  history.  Horace  Walpole  had 
written,  "  So  Sir  William  has  married  his  gallery  of 
statues."  Emma  soon  ceases  to  be  a  statue,  and  be- 
comes prominent  in  the  labyrinth  of  Neapolitan  in- 
trigue; her  role  as  patriot  begins  to  be  foreshadowed. 

Throughout  these  three  critical  years  of  stress  and 
shock  momentous  issues  were  brewing,  destined  to 

124 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  125 

bring  into  sharp  relief  and  typical  collision  the  two 
giants  of  France  and  England,  Napoleon  and  Nelson; 
while  all  the  time,  under  fate's  invisible  hand,  Nelson 
was  as  surely  tending  towards  Naples  and  Emma,  as 
Emma  was  being  drawn  towards  Nelson.  From  the 
moment  of  her  return  in  the  late  autumn  of  1791  she 
began,  at  first  under  Hamilton's  tuition,  to  study  and 
understand  the  political  landscape. 

Nowhere  outside  France  did  the  Revolution  bode 
omens  more  sinister  than  at  the  Neapolitan  court.  The 
Queen  clearly  discerned  that  her  French  sister  and 
brother-in-law  trembled  on  the  brink  of  destruction. 
She  knew  that  the  epidemic  of  anarchy  must  endanger 
Naples  among  the  first,  and  might  involve  the  possible 
extinction  of  its  dynasty.  She  was  not  deceived  by 
the  many  false  prophets  crying  peace  where  no  peace 
was;  still  less  by  the  wild  schemes  for  hairbreadth 
escapes  which  sent  visionary  deliverers  scouring 
through  Europe.  Her  one  hope — soon  rudely  shat- 
tered— lay  in  Austria's  power  to  effect  a  coalition  of 
great  powers  and  strong  armies.  She  had  just  quit- 
ted the  family  council  in  Vienna,  following  on  the 
death  of  her  brother  Joseph  the  Second,  and  the  short- 
lived accession  to  the  throne  of  her  other  brother 
Leopold,  the  pedantic  philanthropist.  Its  object  had 
been,  in  Horace  Walpole's  phrase,  to  "  Austriacise  " 
the  position  of  the  Italian  Bourbons,  by  family  inter- 
marriages and  a  betrothal.  Her  efforts  were  bent  on 
a  league  against  France,  and  it  was  for  this  that  on 
her  way  home  she  had  contrived  a  surprise  meeting 
with  the  weak  Pope  Pius  VI.,  penetrated  the  Vatican, 
abjured  her  anti-papal  policy,  and  humiliated  herself 
in  the  dust.  And  yet  Louis  XVI.  besought  her  to  sus- 
pend efforts  which  might  rescue  him,  and  shrank  from 
embittering  his  false  friends.  Austria,  too,  was  for 
seven  years  to  prove  a  broken  reed.  Spain  was  never  a 


whole-hearted  enemy  of  France,,  and  within  three  years 
was  to  become  her  ally.  The  Queen  awoke  to  a  fury 
of  indignation  and  hopelessness.  Her  foes  were 
those  of  her  own  household — her  nobles,  her  husband, 
his  Spanish  brother  and  sister, — and  herself.  Hith- 
erto she  had  been  reckoned  an  enlightened  patroness, 
compassing  the  equality  and  fraternity  of  subjects  who 
had  never  required  political  liberty.  She  had  stub- 
bornly resisted  the  Spanish  Machiavellianism  which 
had  manoeuvred  to  undermine  those  very  f  reemasonries 
which  Maria  Carolina  had  founded  and  forwarded. 
Spain  was,  in  truth,  the  key  of  the  present  position. 
Spain  was  befooling  Ferdinand  and  spiting  his  wife 
at  every  turn.  The  Spanish  queen  coveted  Naples  for 
her  own  offspring,  and  the  two  queens  abominated  each 
other.  She  was  quite  aware  that  the  pro-Spanish 
party,  abetted  by  her  blockhead  of  a  husband,  covertly 
designed  the  transference  of  the  Crown  of  the  Two 
Sicilies  to  the  Duke  of  Parma,  while  many  of  the 
Neapolitan  nobles,  affronted  at  the  abolition  of  their 
feudal  rights,  were  in  secret  confederation  with  it. 
She  sprang  from  a  house  glorying  in  its  despotic 
monopoly  of  popular  principles,  yet  it  was  to  such 
fatalities  that  these  very  principles  were  leading. 
Stability  and  authority  had  been  her  aims,  yet  the 
ground  was  fast  slipping  from  beneath  her  feet.  She 
was  a  true  scion  of  the  casuist  Hapsburgs,  who  had 
always  considered  pride  cs  a  sacred  duty,  and  who,  if 
their  system  were  imperilled,  would  be  ready  to  de- 
fend it  by  conscientious  crimes.  In  the  refrain  of  her 
own  subsequent  letters,  "II  faut  faire  son  devoir 
fusqu'au  fombeau" 

And  added  to  all  this  was  the  shifting  mood  of  her 
consort,  whose  infidelities  she  (like  the  queen  of  our 
own  George  the  Second)  only  condoned  in  order  that 
his  good  humour  might  enable  her  to  rule.  He  had 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  127 

always  twitted  her  with  being  an  "  Illuminata,"  he 
now  derided  her  as  the  "  Austrian  hen."  His  advisers 
would  prompt  him  to  rely  more  than  ever  on  his  Span- 
ish kindred,  to  slight  the  Hapsburgs  and  herself. 
When  Emma  long  afterwards  claimed  to  have  "  De- 
Bourbonised  "  the  Neapolitan  court,  it  was  to  these 
conditions  that  she  referred. 

Gallo,  the  foreign  minister,  leaned  towards  and  upon 
Spain.  Even  Acton  hitherto  had  been  content  to  pro- 
pitiate the  King  by  taking  his  cue  from  Madrid.  The 
King  himself  had  regarded  England  merely  as  a  mar- 
ket for  dogs  and  horses,  the  Queen,  only  as  an  enemy 
of  Spain.  That  the  attitude  of  both  was  shortly 
to  be  transformed  was  partly  due  to  Emma's  enthusi- 
asm as  spokeswoman  for  her  husband.  Even  in 
February,  1796,  Emma  wrote  to  Lord  Macartney,  who 
had  just  arrived  at  Naples,  that  "  the  Queen  has  much 
to  do  to  persuade  "  Ferdinand,  that  "  she  is  wore  out 
with  fatigue,"  and  that  "  he  approves  of  all  our  pros- 
pects." She  refers,  I  think,  to  his  Spanish  bias.  The 
moot  question  soon  became,  Was  Naples  to  be  Spanish 
or  English?  The  Austrian  influence,  so  prized  by  an 
Austrian  princess,  was  on  the  wane.  As  England's 
advocate  the  light-hearted  Emma  was  drawn  into  the 
political  vortex,  and  assumed  the  mysterious  solemnity 
befitting  her  part. 

In  her  perplexity  it  was  to  Acton  that  Maria  Caro- 
lina turned.  She  thought  him  a  man  of  iron,  whereas 
he  was  really  one  of  wood;  but  he  was  methodical, 
pro-Austrian,  and  at  the  core  pro-English.  Under 
the  imminence  of  crisis,  he  and  Hamilton — still  a  man 
of  pleasure,  but  not  its  slave — both  came  to  perceive 
that  unless  the  whole  system  of  Europe  was  to  be 
reversed,  an  Anglo-Sicilian  alliance  was  imperative. 
Hamilton,  however,  was  slower  to  discern  the  neces- 
sity which  Emma  realised  by  instinct.  Writing  in 


128  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

April,  1792,  he  says:  "The  Neapolitans,  provided 
they  can  get  their  bellies  full  at  a  cheap  rate,  will  not, 
I  am  sure,  trouble  their  heads  with  what  passes  in 
other  countries,  and  great  pains  are  taken  to  prevent 
any  of  the  democratic  propaganda,  or  their  writings, 
finding  their  way  into  this  kingdom."  Even  in  1795 
he  was  to  be  more  concerned  with  the  success  of  his 
treatises  on  Vesuvius  than  with  the  tangle  of  treaties 
fast  growing  out  of  the  situation.  It  was  not  till 
1796  that  he  took  any  strong  initiative  with  Acton. 
The  two  Sicilies  indeed  were  now  a  shuttlecock  between 
the  treacheries  of  Spain  and  the  dilatoriness  as  well  as 
venality  of  Austria. 

-  But  for  England  the  French  cataclysm  meant  some- 
thing wholly  different  from  its  significance  for  the 
Continent.  Great  Britain  stood  alone  and  aloof  from 
other  powers.  She  was  the  nurse  of  traditional  order 
and  traditional  liberty  conjoined;  disorder  and  license, 
although  exploitable  by  political  factions  under  specious 
masks,  never  appealed  to  the  nation  at  large.  Britain's 
upheavals  had  been  settled  by  happy  compromise  more 
than  a  century  before.  Jacobinism  menaced  her 
"  free  "  trade,  and  might  strike  even  at  her  free  in- 
stitutions. She  was  a  great  maritime  and  a  Mediter- 
ranean power  whose  coign  of  vantage  in  Gibraltar 
would  prove  useless  if  Naples  and  Sicily,  Malta  and 
Sardinia  should  fall  to  France.  Sicily,  indeed,  had 
been  one  of  her  objectives  in  that  great  Utrecht  Treaty 
which  had  transferred  it  to  the  friendly  house  of 
Savoy,  while  it  secured  Gibraltar  and  Port  Mahon  to 
Great  Britain.  And  ever  since,  Spain  had  been  Eng- 
land's sworn  enemy.  Spain  was  France's  natural  ally, 
nor  would  the  revolutionary  burst  long  deter  the  Span- 
ish Bourbons  from  an  anti-British  policy.  Spain  had 
tricked  Austria  and  braved  Great  Britain  throughout 
the  eighteenth  century,  yet  it  was  on  Spain  that  Maria 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  129 

Carolina's  husband  habitually  relied.  From  England, 
too,  throughout  that  century,  had  rained  those  showers 
of  gold  which  had  subsidised  the  enemies  of  Bourbon 
preponderance.  "  Will  England,"  wrote  Acton  some 
years  later  to  Hamilton,  when  Emma,  as  the  Queen's 
"  minister  plenipotentiary,"  had  "  spurred  "  them  on, 
"  see  all  Italy,  and  even  the  two  Sicilies,  in  the  French 
hands  with  indifference?  .  .  .  We  shall  perish  if  such 
is  our  destiny,  but  we  hope  of  selling  dear  our  destruc- 
tion." 

In  England  the  remonstrant  Burke  forsook  the 
pseudo-Jacobin  Whigs.  It  was  hoped,  and  not  with- 
out reason,  that  Pitt  as  a  great  statesman  might  fore- 
see the  situation.  But  the  difficulty  all  along  in  the 
British  cabinet,  and  sometimes  the  obstacle,  was  to 
prove  Lord  Grenville,  cold,  stiff,  timid,  official  to  a 
fault;  so  cautious  that  he  twice  counselled  the  two 
Sicilies  to  make  the  best  peace  they  could  with  Buona- 
parte, since  they  must  go  under;  and  so  diplomatic 
that,  even  after  Nelson's  Mediterranean  expedition 
had  been  concerted  between  the  two  courts,  he  begged 
Circello,  the  Neapolitan  Ambassador,  to  pretend  dis- 
content in  public  with  what  had  just  been  privately 
arranged.  In  the  same  year,  defending  the  ministry 
against  the  Duke  of  Bedford's  abortive  motion  for. 
their  dismissal,  and  praising  the  gallant  navy  "  which 
had  ridden  triumphant  at  the  same  moment -at  the 
mouths  of  Brest  and  Cadiz  and  Texel,"  the  Secretary 
for  Foreign  Affairs  could  only  be  wise  after  the  event. 
He  could  only  defend  the  prolongation  of  war  by 
Barere's  threat  of  "  Delenda  est  Carthago,"  by  Con- 
dorcet's  opinion  that  under  a  peace  we  should  have 
been  relieved  of  Jamaica,  Bengal,  and  our  Indian  pos- 
sessions; by  bemoaning  England's  vanished  "power 
to  control  the  Continent,"  by  proclaiming  that  she  was 
"  at  her  lowest  ebb,"  and  by  complaining  that  Austria 


130  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

had  deserted  the  Alliance.  Commenting  on  his  at- 
titude, thirteen  years  afterwards,  towards  Emma's 
claims,  Canning,  who  warmly  favoured  them,  dwells 
on  the  same  characteristic  of  "  coldest  caution."  Such 
a  spirit  could  ill  deal  with  the  conjuncture.  Mob- 
despotism  was  now  the  dread  of  Europe.  Mob-rule 
was  already  rampant  in  France,  though  the  time  was 
still  distant  when  the  Marchioness  of  Solari  could 
declare  that  the  French  had  robbed  her  of  all  but  the 
haunting  memory  of  Parisian  gutters  swimming  with 
blood. 

Acton  acceded  to  the  Queen's  request  with  rigour, 
but  his  weak  point  lay  in  the  fact  that  he  was  a  born 
bureaucrat;  while  the  sort  of  bureaucracy  that  he  fa- 
voured, one  of  secret  inquisition,  turned  political  of- 
fences into  heresies,  and  Jacobins  into  martyrs.  Bu- 
reaucracies may  check,  but  have  never  stemmed, 
revolutions  which  are  calmed — when  they  can  be 
calmed — by  commanding  personality  alone.  A  bu- 
reaucrat is  never  a  trusted  nor  even  a  single  figure, 
for  he  belongs  to  unpopular  and  unavailing  groups  and 
systems,  which  from  their  nature  must  at  best  be 
temporary  stop-gaps.  As  Jacobinism  throve  and  per- 
severed, the  Lazzaroni,  who  execrated  it  as  a  foreign 
innovation,  cheered  their  careless  King,  but  they  came 
to  hiss  the  Queen  for  her  countenance  of  bureaucracy, 
until  Nelson  entered  the  arena,  and  Emma  formed,  in 
1799,  a  "  Queen's  party,"  at  the  very  moment  when 
Maria  Carolina  dared  not  so  much  as  show  her  face 
at  Naples. 

Already  in  the  spring  the  French  events  began  to 
affect  Naples.  Mirabeau  dead,  the  abortive  escape  to 
Varennes,  Louis  XVI.  in  open  and  abject  terror,  Dan- 
ton  and  Petion  bribed,  the  National  Convention,  the 
cosmopolitan  cries  of  "  Let  us  sow  the  ideas  of  1789 
throughout  the  world.  .  .  .  We  all  belong  to  our 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  131 

country  when  it  is  in  danger.  .  .  .  Liberty  and  equality 
constitute  country,"  spread  their  contagion  broadcast. 
They  did  not  yet  inflame  the  Neapolitan  middle  class; 
they  never  caught  the  Neapolitan  people;  but  their 
leaven  had  already  touched  the  offended  nobles  and 
the  ungrateful  students.  From  the  moment  of  Louis' 
imprisonment  in  the  Temple,  his  sister-in-law  changed 
her  tack  and  resolved  to  go  "  Thorough."  The  pul- 
pits were  pressed  into  an  anti- Jacobin  crusade.  The 
administration  of  the  twelve  city  wards,  hitherto  su- 
pervised by  elected  aldermen,  was  transferred  without 
warning  to  chiefs  of  police  as  judges  and  inspectors. 
Denouncers  and  informers  were  hired,  although  as  yet 
the  brooding  Queen  used  her  spies  for  precaution  alone, 
and  not  for  vengeance.  The  republican  seed  of  the 
secret  societies,  sown  by  her  own  hands,  had  borne  a 
crop  of  democracy  ripening  towards  harvest.  Her 
academic  reformers  were  fast  developing  into  open 
revolutionaries.  The  red  cap  was  worn  and  flaunted. 
Copies  of  the  French  Statute  were  seized  in  thousands 
as  they  lurked  in  sacks  on  the  rocks  of  Chiaromonte; 
two  even  found  their  way  into  the  Queen's  apartments. 
This  conspiracy  she  hoped  to  nip  in  the  bud.  It  had 
not  assumed  its  worst  proportions ;  nor  as  yet  had  dis- 
loyalty thrown  off  the  mask,  and  appeared  as  a  bribed 
hireling  of  the  National  Convention.  The  grisly  hor- 
rors at  Paris  of  1792,  preluding  only  too  distinctly 
the  crowning  executions  of  1793,  called  also  for  sterner 
measures.  By  July,  Beckford,  an  eye-witness,  re- 
marks that  even  Savoy  was  "  bejacobinised,  and  plun- 
dering, ravaging,"  were  "  going  on  swimmingly." 
The  Queen  bestirred  herself  abroad.  A  league  was 
formed  between  Prussia  and  Austria.  The  Duke  of 
Brunswick  issued  his  manifesto  that  one  finger  laid 
on  Louis  would  be  avenged.  Danton  exclaimed,  "  To 
arms !  "  France,  generalled  by  Dumouriez,  hero  of 

Memoirs — Vol.  14-  —5 


132  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Jemappes,  and  Kellermann  of  Valmy,  was  invaded. 
The  assassination  of  Gustavus  of  Sweden  followed. 
But  the  brief  victory  of  the  confederate  arms  at 
Lottgwy  soon  yielded  to  the  Valmy  defeat.  Monarch v 
was  on  its  trial. 

Once  more  the  Queen  conferred  with  Acton,  and 
their  deliberations  resulted  in  the  detestable  Star  Cham- 
ber of  the  "  Camera  Oscura."  Force  was  to  be  met 
by  force,  and  cabal  by  cabal.  Prince  Castelcicala,  a 
far  abler  minister  than  Acton,  was  recalled  from  Lon- 
don to  assist  in  its  councils;  Ruffo,  not  yet  Cardinal, 
became  its  assessor ;  while  the  stripling  Luigi  di  Medici, 
under  the  title  of  "  Regente  della  vicaria,"  was  made 
its  head  inquisitor.  But  mercy  was  still  shown.  She 
does  not  indeed  appear  at  this  period  to  have  enter- 
tained any  idea  of  persecution.  Most  odious  means, 
however,  were  taker!  to  crush  a  conspiracy  of  foreign 
and  unpopular  origin.  Some  hundreds  of  the  better 
class,  some  thousands  of  the  scum,  were  banished,  or 
confined  in  the  prisons  of  Lampedusa  and  Tremiti. 
Such  is  an  imperfect  outline  of  what  happened  in  1791 
and  1792. 

The  interview  of  the  Hamiltons  with  Marie  An- 
toinette on  their  homeward  journey  has  been  already 
noticed.  Nearly  twenty-four  years  afterwards  Lady 
Hamilton,  never  accurate,  and  constitutionally  exag- 
gerative, declared  in  her  last  memorial  under  the 
pressure  of  sore  distress,  that  she  then  presented  to  the 
Queen  of  Naples  her  sister's  last  letter.  There  is  small 
disproof  that  substantially  she  told  the  truth.  She 
may  well  have  carried  a  missive,  for  Marie  Antoinette 
neglected  none  of  her  now  rare  chances  of  communica- 
tion. About  the  same  timej  however,  the  Marchioness 
of  Solari  also  repaired  from  Paris  to  Naples  with 
another  communication,  which  was  probably  verbal, 
and  may  possibly  have  preceded  Lady  Hamilton's  al- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  133 

leged  message.  In  the  autumn  of  1793,  however,  the 
Marchioness  again  visited  Naples  and  brought  with 
her  what  undoubtedly  seems  the  last  letter  received 
by  Maria  from  Marie.  Emma's  statement  has  been 
questioned  on  the  ground  that  hers  was  not  the  last 
message.  It  is  perhaps  hardly  worth  while  debating 
whether  all  credence  should  be  denied  to  the  bearer  of 
an  important  letter  simply  on  the  ground  of  priority. 
Any  such  letter  whatever  would  have  recommended  its 
bearer  to  the  Queen  of  Naples. 

Whether  or  no  this  incident  fastened  afresh  the 
Queen's  regard,  certain  it  is  that  Maria  Carolina  gave 
the  mot  d'ordre  for  Lady  Hamilton's  acceptability. 
Nobody  disputed  her  position,  least  of  all  the  English. 
She  was  at  once  formally  presented  to  the  Queen.  By 
mid-April  of  1792  Sir  William  Hamilton  coulcl  tell 
Horace  Walpole,  just  acceding  to  his  earldom,  that  the 
Queen  had  been  very  kind,  and  treated  his  wife  "  like 
any  other  travelling  lady  of  distinction."  "  Emma," 
he  adds,  "  has  had  a  difficult  part  to  act,  and  has  suc- 
ceeded wonderfully,  having  gained  by  having  no  pre- 
tensions the  thorough  approbation  of  all  the  English 
ladies.  .  .  .  You  cannot  imagine  how  delighted  Lady 
H.  was  in  having  gained  your  approbation  in  England. 
.  .  .  She  goes  on  improving  daily.  .  .  .  She  is  really 
an  extraordinary  being." 

Within  a  month  of  her  arrival  in  the  previous 
autumn,  and  in  the  midst  of  successes,  she  sat  down 
to  write  to  Romney.  The  tone  of  this  letter  deserves 
close  attention,  for  no  under-motive  could  colour  a 
communication  to  so  old  and  fatherly  a  comrade : 
"  I  have  been  received  with  open  arms  by  all  the 
Neapolitans  of  both  sexes,  by  all  the  foreigners  of 
every  distinction.  I  have  been  presented  to  the  Queen 
of  Naples  by  her  own  desire,  she  [h]as  shewn  me  all 
sorts  of  kind  and  affectionate  attentions ;  in  short,  I  am 


134  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

the  happiest  woman  in  the  world.  Sir  William  is 
fonder  of  me  every  day,  and  I  hope  'I  [he  ?]  will  have 
no  corse  to  repent  of  what  he  [h]as  done,  for  I  feel 
so  grateful  to  him  that  I  think  I  shall  never  be  able 
to  make  him  amends  for  his  goodness  to  me.  But 
why  do  I  tell  you  this  ?  You  was  the  first  dear  friend 
I  open'd  my  heart  to;  you  ought  to  know  me.1  .  .  . 
How  grateful  then  do  I  feel  to  my  dear,  dear  husband 
that  has  restored  peace  to  my  mind,  that  has  given 
me  honors,  rank,  and  what  is  more,  innocence  and 
happiness.  Rejoice  with  me,  my  dear  sir,  my  friend, 
my  more  than  father;  believe  me,  I  am  still  that  same 
Emma  you  knew  me.  -If  I  could  forget  for  a  mo- 
ment what  I  was,  I  ought  to  suffer.  Command  me  in 
anything  I  can  do  for  you  here;  believe  me,  I  shall 
have  a  real  pleasure.  Come  to  Naples,  and  I  will  be 
your  model,  anything  to  induce  you  to  come,  that  I 
may  have  an  opportunity  to  show  my  gratitude  to  you. 
.  .  .  We  have  a  many  English  at  Naples,  Ladys 
Malm[e]sbury,  Maiden,  Plymouth,  Carnegie,  and 
Wright,  etc.  They  are  very  kind  and  attentive  to  me ; 
they  all  make  it  a  point  to  be  remarkably  cevil  to  me. 
Tell  Hayly  I  am  always  reading  his  Triumphs  of  Tem- 
per; it  was  that  that  made  me  Lady  H.,  for  God 
knows  I  had  for  five  years  enough  to  try  my  temper, 
and  I  am  affraid  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  good  ex- 
ample Serena  taught  me,  my  girdle  wou'd  have  burst, 
and  if  it  had  I  had  been  undone;  for  Sir  W.  minds 
more  temper  than  beauty.  He  therefore  wishes  Mr. 
Hayly  wou'd  come,  that  he  might  thank  him  for  his 
sweet-tempered  wife.  I  swear  to  you,  I  have  never 
once  been  out  of  humour  since  the  6th  of  last  Septem- 
ber. God  bless  you." 

Romney,   whose    friend   Flaxman,    now   in   Rome, 

1  Here  follows  the  passage  about  her  "  sense  of  virtue "  not 
being  overcome  in  her  earliest  distresses,  quoted  ante  in  chap.  ii. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  135 

counted  himself  among  Emma's  devotees,  replied  in 
terms  of  humble  respect.  He  deprecated  the  liberty 
of  sending  a  friend  with  a  letter  of  introduction,  and 
only  wished  that  he  could  express  his  feelings  on  the 
perusal  of  her  "  happyness."  "  May  God  grant  it 
may  remain  so  to  the  end  of  your  days." 

How  "  attentive  "  to  her  Lady  Plymouth  and  the 
English  sisterhood  were  at  this  early  period  is  shown 
by  a  letter  which  changed  hands  during  the  present 
year.  It  is  couched  not  only  in  terms  of  affection, 
but  of  trust.  If  the  French  terror  became  actual  at 
Naples,  Lady  Plymouth  would  take  refuge  with  Lady 
Hamilton,  and  "  creep  under  the  shadow  of "  her 
"  wings."  The  leaders  of  English  society  relished,  as 
always,  a  new  sensation,  and,  away  from  England,  de- 
lighted to  honour  one  so  different  from  themselves. 

While  all  this  underground  disturbance  proceeded, 
the  outward  aspect  of  court  and  city  was  serenity  it- 
self. Ancient  Pompeii  could  not  have  been  more 
frivolously  festive.  Ill  as  they  suited  her  mood,  the 
Queen,  from  policy,  encouraged  these  galas.  They 
distracted  the  court  from  treason,  they  pleased  her 
husband  and  people,  and  they  attracted  a  crowd  of 
useful  foreigners,  especially  the  English,  who,  during 
these  two  years,  inundated  Naples  to  their  Ambassa- 
dor's dismay.  The  distinguished  English  visitors  of 
1792  included  the  sickly  young  Prince  Augustus,  after- 
wards Duke  of  Sussex,  whose  delicate  health  and  mor- 
ganatic marriage  l  alike  added  to  Hamilton's  anxieties. 
But  for  the  disturbed  state  of  the  Continent,  "  Vathek  " 
Beckford — to  whom  Sir  William  was  always  kind — 
would  have  revisited  his  kinsman  also.  He  had  not 

1With  Lady  Augusta  Murray,  to  whom  he  was  a  devoted  hus- 
band in  the  teeth  of  his  father's  and  brother's  opposition.  Lady 
Hamilton  continued  to  enjoy  his  friendship  long  afterwards. 


136  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

long-  quitted  his  "  dear  "  and  queenly  friend  "  Mary  of 
Portugal,"  and  was  now  travelling  through  Savoy 
with  a  retinue  worthy  of  Disraeli's  Sidonia  and  com- 
posed of  half  the  emigres,  musicians,  and  cooks — chefs 
d'orchestre  et  de  cuisine — of  Versailles;  and  Emma's 
old  friend  Gavin  Hamilton  was  also  among  the  throng. 
A  correspondence  between  husband  and  wife  dur- 
ing the  January  of  this  year,  and  his  absence  with 
the  King  at  Persano,  is  pleasant  reading,  and  pictures 
a  happy  pair.  The  Ambassador,  who  up  to  now  had 
found  his  business  in  sport,  cheerfully  roughing  it  on 
bread  and  butter,  going  to  bed  at  nine  and  rising  at  five, 
reading,  too,  "  to  digest  his  dinner,"  is  affectionate  and 
playful.  He  was  "  sorry,"  he  writes  on  leaving,  that 
his  "  dear  Em  "  must  "  harden  "  herself  to  such  little 
misfortunes  as  a  temporary  parting  " ;  but  he  "  cannot 
blame  her  for  having  a  good  and  tender  heart."  "  Be- 
lieve me,  you  are  in  thorough  possession  of  all  mine, 
though  I  will  allow  it  to  be  rather  tough."  His  diary 
of  the  hour  flows  from  a  light  heart  and  pen.  He 
tells  her  the  gossip :  "  Yesterday  the  courier  brought 
the  order  of  S't.  Stephano  from  the  Emperor  for  the 
Prince  Ausberg,  and  the  King  was  desired  to  invest 
him  with  it.  As  soon  as  the  King  received  it,  he  ran 
into  the  Prince's  room,  whom  he  found  in  his  shirt, 
and  without  his  breeches,  and  in  that  condition  was  he 
decorated  with  the  star  and  ribbon  by  his  majesty,  who 
has  wrote  the  whole  circumstance  to  the  Emperor. 
Leopold  may,  perhaps,  not  like  the  joking  with  his 
first  order.  Such  nonsense  should  certainly  be  done 
with  solemnity ;  or  it  becomes,  what  it  really  is,  a  little 
tinsel  and  a  few  yards  of  broad  ribbon."  His  watch- 
ful wife,  in  her  turn,  acquaints  him  with  London 
cabals  to  dislodge  him  from  office.  "  Our  conduct."  he 
answers  with  indignation,  "  shall  be  such  as  to  be  un- 
attackable.  .  .  .  Twenty-seven  years'  service,  having 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  137 

spent  all  the  King's  money,  and  all  my  own,  besides 
running  in  debts,  deserves  something  better  than  a  dis- 
mission. ...  I  would  not  be  married  to  any  woman 
but  yourself  for  all  the  world."  And  again,  "  I  never 
doubted  your  gaining  every  soul  you  approach.  .  .  . 
Nothing  pleases  me  more  than  to  hear  you  do  not 
neglect  your  singing.  It  would  be  a  pity,  as  you  are 
near  the  point  of  perfection."  The  very  etiquette  of 
the  Embassy  he  leaves  with  confidence  in  her  hands. 
"  You  did  admirably,  my  dear  Em.,  in  not  inviting 
Lady  A.  H[atton]  to  dine  with  the  prince,  and  still 
better  in  telling  her  honestly  the  reason.  I  have  al- 
ways found  that  going  straight  is  the  best  method, 
though  not  the  way  of  the  world.  You  did  also  very 
well  in  asking  Madame  Skamouski,  and  not  taking  upon 
you  to  present  her  [to  the  Queen]  without  leave.  In 
short,  consult  your  own  good  sense,  and  do  not  be  in  a 
hurry;  and  I  am  sure  you  will  always  act  right.  .  .  . 
As  the  Prince  asked  you,  you  did  right  to  send  for  a 
song  of  Douglas's,  but  in  general  you  will  do  right 
to  sing  only  at  home."  He  also  politely  deprecates  his 
plebeian  mother-in-law's  attendance  at  formal  recep- 
tions. But  Emma,  throughout  her  career,  disdained 
to  be  parted  for  a  moment.  Unlike  most  parvenues, 
she  never  blushed  for  the  homely  creature  who  had 
stood  by  her  in  the  day  of  trouble,  and  her  intense  love 
for  her  mother,  even  when  it  stood  most  in  her  way, 
ennobles  her  character. 

The  Neapolitan  revelries  were  sometimes  the  reverse 
of  squeamish :  "  Let  them  all  roll  on  the  carpet,"  he 
writes,  "  provided  you  are  not  of  the  party.  My  trust 
is  in  you  alone." 

It  may  be  added  that  from  stray  allusions  in  this 
series  it  is  evident  that  even  thus  early  Lady  Hamil- 
ton could  translate  letters  and  transact  business.  Sir 
William  was  naturally  torpid,  and  his  enthusiasm  cen-* 


138  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

tred  on  the  wife  who  bestirred  him.  His  efforts  to 
keep  eternally  young  were  already  being  damped  by 
the  deaths  of  contemporaries.  That  of  his  old  in- 
timate, Lord  Pembroke,  in  1794,  was  to  evoke  a  char- 
acteristic comment : — "  It  gave  me  a  little  twist ;  but 
I  have  for  some  time  perceived  that  my  friends,  with 
whom  I  spent  my  younger  days,  have  been  dropping 
around  me." 

The  close  of  1792  saw  the  first  of  those  serious  ill- 
nesses through  which  Emma  was  so  often  to  nurse  him. 
For  more  than  a  fortnight  he  lay  in  danger  at  Caserta. 
Lady  Hamilton  was  "  eight  days  without  undressing, 
eating,  or  sleeping."  The  Queen  and  King  sent  con- 
stantly to  inquire.  Although  Naples  was  distant  six- 
teen miles,  Ladies  Plymouth,  Dunmore,  and  Webster, 
with  others  of  the  British  contingent,  offered  even  to 
stay  with  her.  She  tells  her  dear  Mr.  Greville  (how 
changed  the  appellation!)  of  her  "great  obligations," 
and  of  her  grief.  "  Endead  I  was  almost  distracted 
from  such  extreme  happiness  at  once  to  such  misery. 
.  .  .  What  cou'd  console  me  for  the  loss  of  such  a 
husband,  friend,  and  protector?  For  surely  no  hap- 
piness is  like  ours.  We  live  but  for  one  another.  But 
I  was  too  happy.  1 1  had  imagined  I  was  never  more  to 
be  unhappy.  All  is  right.  I  now  know  myself  again, 
and  shall  not  easily  fall  into  the  same  error  again. 
For  every  moment  I  feel  what  I  felt  when  I  thought  I 
was  loseing  him  for  ever."  x  This  is  the  letter  con- 
cerning her  grandmother  to  which  reference  has  al- 
ready been  made.  Since  I  lay  stress  on  the  fact  that 
Emma  was  a  typical  daughter  of  the  people  both  in 
scorn  and  affection,  that  she  was  warm-hearted,  un- 
mercenary,  and  grateful,  and  that  she  never  lowered 
the  natures  of  those  with  whom  she  was  brought  into 
contact,  another  excerpt  may  be  pardoned : — "  I  will 
1  Morrison  MS.  215;  Caserta,  December  4,  1792. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  139 

trouble  you  with  my  own  affairs  as  you  are  so  good 
as  to  interest  yourself  about  me.  You  must  know  I 
send  my  grandmother  every  Cristmas  twenty  pounds, 
and  so  I  ought.  I  have  200  a  year  for  nonsense,  and  it 
wou'd  be  hard  I  cou'd  not  give  her  twenty  pounds 
when  she  has  so  often  given  me  her  last  shilling. 
As  Sir  William  is  ill,  I  cannot  ask  him  for  the  order; 
but  if  you  will  get  the  twenty  pounds  and  send  it  to 
her,  you  will  do  me  the  greatest  favor ;  for  if  the  time 
passes  without  hearing  from  me,  she  may  imagine  I 
have  forgot  her,  and  I  would  not  keep  her  poor  old 
heart  in  suspense  for  the  world.  .  .  .  Cou'd  you  not 
write  to  her  a  line  from  me  and  send  to  her,  and  tell 
her  by  my  order,  and  she  may  write  to  you?  Send 
me  her  answer.  For  I  cannot  divest  myself  of  my 
original  feelings.  It  will  contribute  to  my  happiness, 
and  I  am  sure  you  will  assist  to  make  me  happy.  Tell 
her  every  year  she  shal  have  twenty  pound.  The 
fourth  of  November  last  I  had  a  dress  on  that  cost 
twenty-five  pounds,  as  it  was  Gala  at  Court;  and  be- 
lieve me  I  felt  unhappy  all  the  while  I  had  it  on.  Ex- 
cuse the  trouble  I  give  you." 

The  end  of  1792  and  the  whole  of  1793  loomed  big 
with  crisis.  The  new  year  opened  with  the  judicial 
murder  of  the  French  King,  it  closed  with  that  of 
Marie  Antoinette.  Her  execution  exasperated  all  Eu- 
rope against  France.  England  declared  war;  Prussia 
retired  from  the  first  Coalition,  and  the  second  was 
formed.  An  Anglo-Sicilian  understanding  ensued. 
Through  the  arrival  of  La  Touche  Treville's  squadron 
at  Naples,  the  French  sansculottes  shook  hands  with 
the  Italian.  Hood's  capture  of  Toulon,  Napoleon's 
undoing  of  it,  and  Nelson's  advent  in  the  Agamemnon, 
opened  out  a  death-struggle  unfinished  even  when  the 
hero  died. 

To  the  Queen's  promptings  of  temperament  and  hab- 


140  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

its  of  principle  were  now  to  be  added  the  goads  of  re- 
venge. Jacobinism  for  her  and  her  friends  soon  came 
to  mean  the  devil.  And  with  this  year,  too,  opened  also 
Lady  Hamilton's  intimacy  with  the  Queen,  her  awak- 
ening of  her  listless  husband,  and  her  keen  endeavours 
on  behalf  of  the  British  navy. 

The  worst  hysteria  is  that  of  a  woman  who  is  able 
to  conceal  it.  Such  was  now  the  Queen's.  The  over- 
ture to  this  drama  of  1793  was  her  formal  dismissal  of 
Citizen  Mackau,  for  a  few  months  past  the  unwelcome 
Jacobin  representative  of  France  at  the  Neapolitan 
court ;  at  the  same  time,  the  Queen's  influence  procured 
the  dismissal  of  Semouville,  another  "  citizen  "  am- 
bassador at  Constantinople.  Treville's  fleet  promptly 
appeared  to  enforce  reparation.  His  largest  vessel 
dropped  anchor  in  face  of  Castel  Del  Uovo,  and  the 
rest  formed  in  line  of  battle  behind  it.  A  council  was 
called.  The  Anglo-Sicilian  treaty  was  yet  in  abeyance, 
and  with  shame  and  rage  Maria  Carolina  had  to  sub- 
mit, and  receive  the  minister  back  again.  But  this 
was  not  all.  No  sooner  had  Treville  departed  than  a 
convenient  storm  shattered  his  fleet,  and  he  returned  to 
refit.  His  sailors  hobnobbed  with  the  secret  societies, 
and  a  definite  revolution  began.  France  had  hoped 
for  attack;  open  war  being  refused,  she  renewed  her 
designs  by  stealth.  The  Queen,  incensed  beyond  meas- 
ure, redoubled  her  suspicions  and  her  precautions.  To 
the  secret  tribunal  she  added  a  closed  "  Junta,"  and  the 
grim  work  of  deportation  and  proscription  set  in. 
All  Naples,  except  the  Lazzaroni,  rose.  Despite  the 
Neapolitan  neutrality,  Maria  now  organised  a  second 
coalition  against  France,  which  was  at  first  successful. 
The  French,  too,  were  beaten  off  Sardinia.  In  August 
she  renewed  her  desperate  attempts  to  save  her  sis- 
ter; the  jailor's  wife  was  interviewed.  Archduchess 
Christine  contrived  to  send  the  Marquis  Burlot  and 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  141 

Rosalia  D'Albert  with  carte  blanche  on  a  mission  of 
rescue.  It  was  too  late :  they  were  arrested.  But 
Toulon  was  betrayed  by  Trogoff  to  Hood,  who  took 
possession  of  it  for  Louis  XVII. 

Meanwhile,  repression  reigned  at  Naples.  Every 
French  servant  was  banished;  some  of  the  English  vis- 
itors, among  them,  as  Mackau's  friend,  Mr.  Hodges, 
who  pestered  Emma  by  his  attentions,  were  implicated. 
The  Queen,  mistrustful  of  the  crew  who  had  played 
her  false,  turned  to  Emma  in  her  misfortunes,  for 
Lady  Hamilton  was  now  quite  as  familiar  with  the 
royalties  as  her  husband.  One  of  the  Neapolitan 
duchesses  long  afterwards  insinuated  to  the  Mar- 
chioness of  Solari  that  Emma's  paramount  in- 
fluence was  due  to  spying  on  them  and  the  libertine 
King.1  This  may  at  first  have  been  so  (though  envy 
supplies  a  likelier  reason),  but  the  real  cause  lies  deeper. 
The  Queen's  correspondence  commences  in  the  winter 
of  1/93,  and  it  is  quite  clear  that  its  mainspring  was 
sympathy. 

•"  Par  le  sort  de  la  naissance 

L'un  est  roi,  1'autre  est  berger. 
Le  hasard  fit  leur  distance ; 
L'esprit  seul  peut  tout  changer." 2 

The  constraint  of  a  traitorous  and  artificial  court 
left  the  Queen  without  a  confidante,  and  she  welcomed 
a  child  of  nature  whom  she  fancied  she  could  mould 

1  Abominable  rumours,  as  to  her  and  the  Queen,  passed  cur- 
rent among  the  French  Jacobins,  who   fastened  the   same  filth 
with    as    little    foundation    on    Marie    Antoinette.      Emma    told 
Greyille   how   she   despised   and   ignored  the   lying   scandals   of 
Paris  which  Napoleon  afterwards  favoured  from  policy. 

2  It  may  thus  be  paraphrased  : — 

"  Random  lot  of  birth  can  start 
Peasant  one,  another  Queen. 
Chance  has  placed  them  far  apart; 
Mother-wit  can  change  the  scene." 


142  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

at  will.  The  more  her  pent-up  hatred  fastened  on  her 
courtiers,  the  more  she  spited  them  by  petting  her  new 
favourite.  The  friendship  of  queens  with  the  lowly 
appeals  to  vanity  as  well  as  to  devotion.  It  proved  so 
with  both  Sarah  Jennings  and  even  more  with  the 
humbler  Abigail  Masham.  In  still  greater  degree  did 
it  now  so  prove  with  Emma.  It  was  not  long  before 
she  rode  out  regularly  on  a  horse  from  the  royal 
stables,  attended  by  a  royal  equerry,  and  enjoying 
semi-royal  privileges.  Maria's  haughty  ladies-in- 
waiting,  the  Marchionesses  of  San  Marco  and  of  San 
Clemente,  can  scarcely  have  been  pleased.  Jealousy 
must  have  abounded,  but  it  found  no  outlet  for  her 
downfall.  That  the  Neapolitan  nobility,  at  any  rate, 
believed  in  her  real  services  to  England,  is  shown  by 
the  rumour  among  them  that  she  was  Pitt's  informer. 
Henceforward  dates  the  growth  of  an  English  party 
and  an  Anglo-mania  at  the  Neapolitan  court  which  was 
violently  opposed  alike  by  the  pro-Spanish,  the  pro- 
Jacobin,  and  the  "  do wn-with-the- foreigner  "  parties. 
Emma,  however,  stood  as  yet  only  on  the  threshold  of 
her  political  influence. 

In  the  June  of  that  year,  "  for  political  reasons," 
Lady  Hamilton  informs  Greville,  "  we  have  lived  eight 
months  at  Caserta,"  formerly  only  their  winter  abode, 
but  now  the  Queen's  regular  residence  during  the  hot 
months.  "  Our  house  has  been  like  an  inn  this  win- 
ter." (Sir  William  naturally  sighed  over  the  ex- 
pense.) ".  .  .  We  had  the  Duchess  of  Ancaster  sev- 
eral days.  It  is  but  3  days  since  the  Devonshire  fam- 
ily has  left;  and  we  had  fifty  in  our  family  for  four 
days  at  Caserta.  'Tis  true  we  dined  every  day  at 
court,  or  at  some  casino  of  the  King;  for  you  cannot 
immagine  how  good  our  King  and  Queen  as  been  to 
the  principal  English  who  have  been  here — particularly 
to  Lord  and  Lady  Palmerston,  Cholmondely,  Devon- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  143 

shire,  Lady  Spencer,  Lady  Bessborough,  Lady  Plym- 
outh, Sir  George  and  Lady  Webster.  And  I  have 
carried  the  ladies  to  the  Queen  very  often,  as  she  as 
permitted  me  to  go  very  often  in  private,  which  I  do. 
...  In  the  evenings  I  go  to  her,  and  we  are  tete-a-tete 
2  or  3  hours.  Sometimes  we  sing.  Yesterday  the 
King  and  me  sang  duetts  3  hours.  It  was  but  bad. 
.  .  .  To-day  the  Princess  Royal  of  Sweden  comes  to 
court  to  take  leave  of  their  Majesties.  Sir  William 
and  me  are  invited  to  dinner  with  her.  She  is  an 
amiable  princess,  and  as  lived  very  much  with  us. 
The  other  ministers'  wives  have  not  shewed  her  the 
least  attention  because  she  did  not  pay  them  the  first 
visit,  as  she  travels  under  the  name  of  the  Countess 
of  Wasa.  .  .  .  Her  Majesty  told  me  I  had  done  very 
well  in  waiting  on  Her  Royal  Highness  the  moment 
she  arrived.  However,  the  ministers'  wives  are  very 
fond  of  me,  as  the[y]  see  I  have  no  pretentions;  nor 
do  I  abuse  of  Her  Majesty's  goodness,  and  she  ob- 
served the  other  night  at  court  at  Naples  [when]  we 
had  a  drawing-room  in  honner  of  the  Empress  having 
brought  a  son.  I  had  been  with  the  Queen  the  night 
before  alone  en  famille  laughing  and  singing,  etc.  etc., 
but  at  the  drawing-room  I  kept  my  distance,  and  payd 
the  Queen  as  much  respect  as  tho'  I  had  never  seen 
her  before,  which  pleased  her  very  much.  But  she 
shewed  me  great  distinction  that  night,  and  told  me 
several  times  how  she  admired  my  good  conduct.  I 
onely  tell  you  this  to  shew  and  convince  you  I  shall 
never  change,  but  allways  be  simple  and  natural.  You 
may  immagine  how  happy  my  dear,  dear  Sir  William 
is.  ...  We  live  more  like  lovers  than  husband  and 
wife,  as  husbands  and  wives  go  nowadays.  Lord  de- 
liver me!  and  the  English  are  as  bad  as  the  Italians, 
some  few  excepted. 

"  I  study  very  hard,  .  .  .  and  I  have  had  all  my 


144  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

songs  set  for  the  viola,  so  that  Sir  William  may  ac- 
company me,  which  as  pleased  him  very  much,  so 
that  we  study  together.  The  English  garden  is  going 
on  very  fast.  The  King  and  Queen  go  there  every 
day.  Sir  William  and  me  are  there  every  morning  at 
seven  a  clock,  sometimes  dine  there  and  allways  drink 
tea  there.  In  short  it  is  Sir  William's  favourite  child, 
and  booth  him  and  me  are  now  studying  botany,  but 
not  to  make  ourselves  pedantical  prigs  and  shew  our 
learning  like  some  of  our  travelling  neighbours,  but 
for  our  own  pleasure.  Greffer *  is  as  happy  as  a 
prince.  Poor  Flint,  the  messenger,  was  killed  going 
from  hence.  I  am  very  sorry.  He  was  lodged  in  our 
house  and  I  had  a  great  love  for  him.  I  sent  him  to 
see  Pompea,  Portici,  and  all  our  delightful  environs, 
and  sent  all  his  daughters  presents.  Poor  man,  the 
Queen  as  expressed  great  sorrow.  Pray  let  me 
know  if  his  family  are  provided  for  as  I  may  get 
something  for  them  perhaps.  .  .  .  Pray  don't  fail  to 
send  the  inclosed." 

But  more  than  such  surface-life  was  now  animating 
Emma.  A  peasant's  daughter,  at  length  in  the 
ascendant  over  an  Empress's,  was  receiving,  com- 
municating, intensifying  wider  impressions.  When 
her  Queen  denounced,  she  abominated  the  Jacobins; 
her  tears  were  mingled  with  Maria's  over  the 
family  catastrophes.  She  preached  up  to  her  the 
English  as  the  avengers  of  her  wrongs.  She  rejoiced 
with  her  over  the  Anglo-Sicilian  alliance  concluded 
in  July.  She  longed  for  some  deliverer  who  might 
justify  her  flights  of  eloquence. 

England  had  at  last  joined  the  allies  and  thrown 

'Grafer — a  trusted  agent  of  Hamilton's.  He  afterwards  be- 
came the  manager  of  Nelson's  Bronte  estates.  His  wife  was  a 
scheming  woman  who,  in  later  years,  gave  much  trouble  both  to 
Nelson  and  Lady  Hamilton. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  145 

down  the  gauntlet  in  earnest.  The  roth  of  Septem- 
ber, 1793,  brought  Nelson's  first  entry  both  into  Naples 
and  into  the  Ambassador's  house. 

He  had  been  despatched  by  Lord  Hood  on  a  spe- 
cial mission  to  procure  ten  thousand  troops  from  Turin 
and  Naples  after  that  wonderful  surrender  of  starved- 
out  Toulon : — "  The  strongest  in  Europe,  and  twenty- 
two  sail  of  the  line  .  .  .  without  firing  a  shot."  1 

The  previous  year  had  called  forth  two  ruling  strains 
in  his  nature:  the  one  of  irritable  embitterment  at 
his  unrecognised  solicitations  for  a  command; 
the  other  of  patriotic  exultation  when  Chatham 
and  Hood  suddenly  "  smiled  "  upon  him,  thanks,  it 
would  seem,  to  the  importunity  of  his  early  admirer 
and  lifelong  friend,  the  Duke  of  Clarence.  For  five 
years  he  had  been  eating  out  his  heart  on  half-pay 
in  a  Norfolk  village ;  and  even  when  the  long-delayed 
command  had  come,  crass  officialism  assigned  him 
only  a  "  sixty-four "  and  the  fate  of  drifting  aim- 
lessly off  Guernsey  with  no  enemy  in  sight.  If  proof 
be  wanted  of  Nelson's  inherent  idealism,  it  js  found 
in  the  fact  that  in  these  long  days  of  stillness  and 
obscurity  he  was  brooding  over  the  future  of  his 
country,  and  devising  the  mearjs  of  combating  un- 
arisen  combinations  against  her. 

He  was  now  almost  thirty-five,  and  had  been  married 
six  years  and  a  half;  his  wife  was  five  years  younger 
than  himself. 

From  his  earliest  years,  at  once  restrained  and 
sensitive,  companionable  and  lonely,  athirst  for  glory 
rather  than  for  fame,  simple  as  a  child  yet  brave  as  a 
lion,  he  had  experienced  at  intervals  several  passionate 
friendships  for  women.  As  a  stripling  in  Canada  he 
conceived  so  vehement  an  affection  for  Miss  Molly 
Simpson  that  he  was  with  difficulty  withheld  from 
1  Nelson  to  his  wife,  nth  September. 


146  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

leaving  the  service.  After  a  short  interval,  Miss  An- 
drews in  France  had  rekindled  the  flame.  His  in- 
tensest  feeling  in  the  Leeward  Islands  had  been  for 
Mrs.  Moutray,  his  "  dear,  sweet  friend."  His  en- 
gagement to  her  associate,  Frances  Nisbet,  had  been 
sudden — some  suspected  from  pique.  The  young 
widow  of  the  Nevis  doctor  attracted  him  less  by  her 
heart  than  what  he  called  her  "  mental  accomplish- 
ments, .  .  .  superior  to  most  people's  of  either  sex." 
These  were  rather  of  a  second-rate  boarding-school 
order.  Nelson's  unskilled,  uncritical  mind  and  his 
frank  generosity  always  exaggerated  such  qualities 
in  women,  and  not  least  in  Emma,  more  self-taught 
than  himself.  His  wife's  virtues  were  sterling,  but 
her  power  of  appreciation  very  limited.  She  was 
perhaps  more  dutiful  than  gentle,  less  loving  than 
jealous;  her  self-complacent  coldness  was  absolutely 
unfitted  to  understand  or  hearten  or  companion  genius. 
She  entirely  lacked  intuition.  Her  outlook  was 
cramped — that  of  the  plain  common-sense  and  un- 
imaginative prejudice  which  so  often  distinguishes  her 
class.  She  was  a  nagger,  and  she  nagged  her  son. 
She  was  quite  satisfied  with  her  little  shell  and,  ailing 
as  she  was,  perpetually  grumbled  at  everything  out- 
side it.  But  directly  success  attended  her  husband,  she 
at  once  gave  herself  those  social  airs  for  which  that 
class  is  also  distinguished  when  it  rises.  She  became 
ridiculously  pretentious.  This  it  was  that  seems  to 
have  disgusted  Nelson's  sisters  in  later  years,  though 
they  were  certainly  prejudiced  against  her.  Some  dis- 
illusionment succeeded  as  time  familiarised  him  with 
the  lady  of  his  impulsive  choice.  She  nursed  him 
dutifully  in  1797;  but,  for  her,  duties  were  tasks.  At 
Bath,  a  short  time  before  his  eventful  voyage  of  1798, 
he  was  to  express  his  delight  at  the  charms  of  the 
reigning  toasts;  but  in  steeling  himself  against  tempta- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  147 

tion,  he  got  no  further  than  the  avowal  of  having 
"  everything  that  was  valuable  in  a  wife." 

There  are  two  sorts  of  genius,  or  supreme  will :  the 
cold  and  the  warm.  The  one  commands  its  material 
from  sheer  fibre  of  inflexible  character  and  hard  in- 
tellect ;  the  other  creates  and  enkindles  its  fuel  by  ideal- 
ism. The  former  in  England  is  signally  illustrated  in 
differing  spheres  by  Walpole  and  Wellington;  the  lat- 
ter by  Chatham  and  Nelson.  Both  of  these  shared 
that  keen  faculty  of  vision,  really,  if  we  reflect,  a  form 
of  spiritual  force,  and  allied  to  faith  which,  in  volume, 
whether  for  individuals  or  nations,  is  irresistible. 
This  sword  of  the  spirit  is  far  more  powerful  than 
ethical  force  without  it;  still  more  so  than  merely 
conventional  morality,  which,  indeed,  for  good  or  for 
ill,  and  in  many  partings  of  the  ways,  it  has  often  by 
turns  made  or  marred.  Both,  too,  were  histrionic — 
a  word  frequently  misused.  The  world  is  a  stage, 
and  of  all  nature  there  is  a  scenic  aspect.  The  dramatic 
should  never  be  confused  with  the  theatrical,  nor  at- 
titude with  affectation.  And  the  visionary  with  a 
purpose  is  always  dramatic.  He  lives  on  dreams  of 
forecast,  and  his  forecast  visualises  combinations, 
scenes  of  development,  characters,  climaxes.  When  he 
is  nothing  but  a  lonely  muser,  or,  again,  an  orator 
destined  to  bring  other  hands  to  execute  his  ideas,  his 
audience  is  the  future — the  "  choir  invisible."  But 
when  he  himself  acts  the  chief  part  in  the  dramas 
which  he  has  composed,  he  needs  the  audience  that  he 
creates  and  holds.  He  depends  on  a  sympathy  that 
can  interpret  his  best  possibilities  to  himself. 

In  Nelson's  soul  resided  from  boyhood  the  central 
idea  of  England's  greatness.  His  intuitive  force,  his 
genius,  incarnated  that  idea,  and  what  Chatham 
dreamed  and  voiced,  Nelson  did.  He  realised  situa- 
tions in  a  flash,  and,  from  first  to  last,  his  courage  took 


148  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

the  risk  not  only  of  action,  but  of  prophecy.  Indeed, 
his  own  motto  may  be  said  to  have  been  that  fine 
phrase  of  the  other  which  he  quoted  to  Lady  Hamil- 
ton in  the  first  letter  which  counselled  the  flight  of  the 
royal  family  in  1798 — "  The  Boldest  measures  are  the 
Safest."  George  Meredith's  badge  of  true  patriotism 
fits  Nelson  beyond  all  men :  "  To  him  the  honour  of 
England  was  as  a  babe  in  his  arms;  he  hugged  it  like 
a  mother." 

Nelson,  again,  was  eminently  spontaneous.  There 
was  nothing  set  or  petty  about  him.  He  never  posed 
as  "  Sir  Oracle."  He  dared  to  disobey  the  formalists. 
He  despised  and  offended  insignificance  in  high  places ; 
the  prigs  and  pedants,  the  big-wigs  of  Downing 
Street,  the  small  and  self-important  purveyors  of  dead 
letter,  the  jealous  Tritons  of  minnow-like  cliques. 
Above  all,  he  abhorred  from  the  bottom  of  his  honest 
heart  the  f'  candid  friend  " — "  willing  to  wound  and 
yet  afraid  to  strike  " ;  but  he  honoured — to  return  from 
Pope's  line  to  Canning's — "  the  erect,  the  manly  foe." 
Clerical  by  .association,  the  son  of  a  most  pious,  the 
brother  of  a  most  worldly  clergyman,  his  bent  was 
genuinely  religious,  as  all  his  letters  with  their  trust  in 
God  and  their  sincere  "  amens "  abundantly  testify. 
To  clergymen  he  still  remains  the  great  but  erring 
Nelson.  But  his  God  was  the  God  of  truth,  and 
justice,  and  battles — the  tutelary  God  that  watches  over 
England;  and  he  himself  owns  emphatically  in  one  of 
his  letters  that  he  could  never  turn  his  cheek  to  the 
smiter.  He  liked  to  consecrate  his  ambitions,  but 
ambition,  even  in  childhood,  had  been  his  impulse. 
*'  Nelson  will  always  be  first  "  had  been  ever  a  ruling 
motive. 

And,  man  of  iron  as  he  was  in  action,  out  of  it  he 
was  unconstrained  and  sportive.  He  loved  to  let  him- 
self go;  he  delighted  in  fun  and  playful  sallies.  He 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  149 

formed  a  band  of  firm  believers,  and  he  believed  in 
them  with  enthusiasm — an  enthusiasm  which  accentu- 
ated his  bitterness  whenever  it  was  damped  or  disap- 
pointed. A  daredevil  himself,  he  loved  daredevilry  in 
others.  In  Emma  as  he  idealised  her,  he  hailed  a 
nature  that  could  respond,  encourage,  brace,  and  even 
inspire,  for  she  was  to  be  transfigured  into  the  creature 
of  his  own  imaginings.  She  was  his  Egeria.  It  was 
a  double  play  of  enthusiastic  zeal  and  idealisation.  She 
fired  him  to  achieve  more  than  ever  she  could  have 
imagined.  He  stirred  her  to  appear  worthier  in  his 
eyes.  She  wreathed  him  with  laurel;  he  crowned  her 
image  with  myrtle.  Many  to  whom  the  fact  is  repug- 
nant refuse  to  see  that  this  idealised  image  of  Emma 
in  Nelson's  eyes,  however  often  and  lamentably  she 
fell  short  of  it,  was  an  influence  as  real  and  potent 
as  if  she  had  been  its  counterpart.  Her  nearest  ap- 
proach to  it  may  be  viewed  in  her  letters  of  1798. 

It  is  idle  to  brand  her  as  destitute  of  any  moral 
standard;  her  inward  standards  were  no  lower  than 
those  of  the  veneered  "  respectables  "  around  her.  Her 
outward  conduct,  as  Sir  William's  partner,  had  been 
above  suspicion ;  the  sin  of  her  girlhood  had  been  long 
buried.  And  in  many  respects  her  fibre  was  stronger 
than  that  of  a  society  which  broadened  its  hypocrisies 
some  .thirty  years  later,  when  Byron  sang 

"You  are  not  a  moral  people,  and  you  know  it, 
Without  the  aid  of  too  sincere  a  poet." 

The  radical  defect  in  her  grain  was  rather  the  com- 
plete lack  of  anything  like  spiritual  aspiration.  Hers, 
too,  were  the  vanity  that  springs  from  pride,  and  the 
want  of  dignity  bred  of  lawlessness.  She  had  been 
a  wild  flower  treated  as  a  weed,  and  then  transplanted 
to  a  hothouse;  she  was  a  spoiled  child  without  being 
in  the  least  childlike;  she  was  self-conscious  to  the  core. 


150  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

But  if  she  was  ambitious  for  herself,  she  was  fully  as 
ambitious  for  those  that  she  loved,  and  she  admired  all 
who  admired  them. 

It  is  idle  to  dwell  on  the  "  vulgarity  "  of  an  ad- 
venturess. Adventure  was  the  breath  of  Nelson's 
nostrils,  and  Emma's  unrefined  clay  was  animated  by 
a  spirit  of  reality  which  he  loved.  It  is  idle,  again, 
to  talk  of  his  "  infatuation,"  for  that  word  covers 
every  deep  and  lasting  passion  in  idealising  natures.  It 
seems  equally  idle,  even  in  the  face  of  some  uncer- 
tainty, to  say  that  Nelson  was  a  "  dupe  "  in  any  por- 
tion of  his  claims  for  her  "  services  "  which  lay  within 
his  own  experience.  With  regard  to  these  he  was  ab- 
solutely aware  of  what  had  actually  transpired,  and  if 
it  had  not  transpired  he  himself  was  a  liar,  which  none 
have  had  the  temerity  to  assert.  The  only  sense  in 
which  Nelson  could  ever  be  styled  the  "  dupe  "of 
Emma  would  be  that  he  was  utterly  cheated  in  his 
estimate  of  her.  If  she  merely  practised  upon  his 
simplicity,  if  there  was  nothing  genuine  about  her, 
and  all  her  effusiveness  was  a  tinsel  mask  of  hideous 
dissimulation;  if  she  was  a  tissue  of  craft  and  cun- 
ning, then  she  was  the  worst  of  women,  and  he  the 
most  unfortunate  of  men.  Wholly  artless  she  was 
not;  designedly  artful,  she  never  was.  She  was  an 
unconscious  blend  of  Art  and  Nature.  In  all  her  let- 
ters she  is  always  the  same  receptive  creature  of  sin- 
cere volitions  and  attitudes;  and  these  letters,  when 
they  describe  actions,  are  most  strikingly  confirmed 
by  independent  accounts.  They  are  genuine.  Her 
spirit  went  out  to  his  magnetically;  each  was  to  hyp- 
notise the  other.  Had  she  ever  been  artful  she  would 
have  feathered  her  nest.  Throughout  her  career  it 
was  never  common  wealth  or  prodigal  youth  that  at- 
tracted her,  and  in  her  greatest  dependence  she  had 
never  been  a  parasite.  It  was  talent  and  kindness  that 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  151 

she  prized,  and  towards  genius  she  gravitated.  It  is 
not  from  the  bias  either  of  praise  or  blame  that  her 
character  must  be  judged.  It  is  as  a  human  document 
that  she  should  be  read.  The  real  harm  in  the  future 
to  be  worked  by  her  on  Nelson  was  that  of  the  false- 
hood, repugnant  to  them  both,  which,  eight  years 
later,  the  birth  of  Horatia  entailed — an  evil  aggravated 
by  reaction  in  the  nature  of  a  puritan  turned  cavalier, 
and  anxious  to  twist  the  irregularities  of  a  "  Nell 
Gwynne  defender-of-the-faith  "  into  consonance  with 
the  forms  of  his  upbringing. 

At  Naples,  Nelson  and  his  men  found  a  royal  wel- 
come in  every  sense  of  the  word.  The  King  sailed 
out  to  greet  him,  called  on  and  invited  him  thrice 
within  four  days.  He  was  hailed  as  the  "  Saviour  of 
Italy,"  and  while  he  was  feted,  his  crew,  who  from 
the  home  Government  had  obtained  nothing  but 
"  honour  and  salt  beef,"  were  provisioned  and  petted. 
A  gala  at  San  Carlo  was  given  in  their  honour;  six 
thousand  troops  were  offered  without  hesitation;  a 
squadron  was  despatched.  The  atmosphere  of 
despairing  indecision  was  dispersed  by  his  unresting 
alertness,  his  lightning  insight,  his  faith  in  Great 
Britain  and  himself,  and  the  heroic  glow  with  which 
he  invested  duty. 

The  phlegmatic  Acton  was  impressed.  His  only 
fear  was  lest  England's  co-operation  with  Naples 
should  provoke  the  interference  of  the  allies,  and  be 
impeded  by  it.  He  superintended  all  the  arrange- 
ments, for  he  was  eminently  a  man  of  detail;  he 
brought  Captain  Sutton  (who  stayed  throughout  the 
autumn)  to  see  the  King.  Nelson  he  mis-styled  "  Ad- 
miral," and  there  for  the  moment  his  respect  ended. 
But  the  hospitable  Hamilton,  under  the  sway  of 
Emma's  enthusiasm,  was  enraptured.  He  brought 
him  to  lodge  at  the  Embassy  in  the  room  just  pre- 


152  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

pared  for  Prince  Augustus,  who  was  returning  from 
Rome.  He  caught  a  spark  of  the  young  Captain's  own 
electricity,  he  mentioned  him  in  despatches,  and  con- 
ceived friendship  at  first  sight.  Here  was  a  real  man 
at  last,  a  central  and  centralising  genius.  His  wife 
shared  and  redoubled  his  astonishment.  Here  was 
a  being  who,  like  herself,  "loved  to  surprise  people." 
Here  was  one  who,  indefatigable  in  detail,  and  almost 
sleepless  in  energy,  took  large  views,  was  a  statesman 
as  well  as  a  sailor,  and  showed  the  qualities  of  a  gen- 
eral besides;  one,  too,  who,  although  a  stern  discipli- 
narian, could  romp  and  sing  with  his  midshipmen,  one 
who  made  their  health  and  his  country's  glory  his  chief 
concern.  Moreover,  his  appearance,  small,  slight,  wiry 
in  frame,  and  rugged  of  exterior,  was  nevertheless 
prepossessing  and  imposing.  When  he  spoke,  his  face 
lit  up  with  his  soul ;  nor  had  he  yet  lost  an  eye  and  an 
arm.  And  his  contempt  for  Jacks-in-office,  which  sel- 
dom failed  to  show  itself,  chimed  with  her  own — with 
that  of  a  plebeian  who  in  after  years  constantly  used 
that  Irish  phrase,  adopted  by  Nelson,  "  I  would  not  give 
sixpence  to  call  the  King  my  uncle."  Here  was  one 
who  might  rescue  her  Queen  and  shed  lustre  on  Britain ; 
who  might  prove  the  giant-killer  of  the  Jacobin  ogres. 
What  Emma  thought  of  her  guest  may  be  gathered 
from  two  facts,  one  of  which  is  new.  Though  they 
were  not  to  meet  again  until  1798,  Nelson  and  Sir  W. 
Hamilton  were  in  constant  and  most  sympathetic  cor- 
respondence for  the  next  five  years.  In  1796  Sir 
William  recommended  him  to  the  Government  as  "  that 
brave  officer,  Captain  Nelson  ";  "  if  you  don't  deserve 
the  epithet,"  he  told  him,  "  I  know  not  who  does.  .  .  . 
Lady  Hamilton  and  I  admire  your  constancy,  and  hope 
the  severe  service  you  have  undergone  will  be  hand- 
somely rewarded."  And  her  first  letter  of  our  new 
series  in  1798,  written  hurriedly  on  June  I7th  while 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  153 

Nelson,  anchored  off  Capri,  remained  on  the  Van- 
guard, contains  this  sentence :  "  I  will  not  say  how  glad 
I  shall  be  to  see  you.  Indeed  I  cannot  describe  to  you 
my  feelings  on  your  being  so  near  us."  A  woman 
could  not  so  express  herself  to  a  man  unseen  for  five 
years  unless  the  twelve  days  or  so  spent  in  his  com- 
pany had  produced  a  deep  effect.  Every  concern  of 
his  already  enlisted  her  eagerness.  His  stepson, 
Josiah,  then  a  young  midshipman,  was  driven  about  by 
her  and  caressed.  She  laughingly  called  him  her 
cavaliere  servente.  As  yet  it  was  only  attraction,  not 
love  for  Nelson.  This  very  third  anniversary  of  her 
wedding  day  had  enabled  her  proudly  to  record  that 
her  husband  and  she  were  more  inseparable  than  ever, 
and  that  he  had  never  for  one  moment  regretted  the 
step  of  their  union.  But  she  did  fall  in  love  with  the 
quickening  force  that  Nelson  represented.  Infused  by 
the  ardour  of  her  Queen,  proud  of  the  destiny  of  Eng- 
land as  European  deliverer,  urged  by  her  native  am- 
bition to  shine  on  a  bigger  scale,  she  reflected  every 
hue  of  the  crisis  and  its  leaders.  If  his  hour  struck, 
hers  might  strike  also.  He,  she,  and  Sir  William  had 
for  this  short  span  already  realised  what  the  legend 
round  Sir  William's  Order  of  the  Bath  signified, 
"  Tria  juncta  in  uno  " — three  persons  linked  together 
by  one  tie  of  differing  affections. 

The  sole  mentions  of  Emma  by  Nelson  at  this  time 
are  in  a  letter  to  his  brother,  and  another  to  his  wife, 
already  noticed.  But  that  her  influence  had  already 
begun  to  work  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  he  carefully 
preserved  the  whole  series  of  her  letters  of  the  summer 
and  autumn  of  1798.  Three  days  only  after  he  had 
started  for  Leghorn,  he  wrote  as  follows :  "  In  my 
hurry  of  sailing  I  find  I  have  brought  away  a  butter- 
pan.  Don't  call  me  an  ungrateful  guest  for  it,  for  I 
assure  you  I  have  the  highest  sense  of  your  and  Lady 


154  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Hamilton's  kindness,  and  shall  rejoice  in  the  oppor- 
tunity of  returning  it.  ...  The  sending  off  the  prints 
adds  to  the  kindness  I  have  already  received  from 
you  and  Lady  Hamilton."  And  when  at  the  close  of 
August  in  the  next  year  he  stayed  at  Leghorn  once 
more,  he  assured  Sir  William  how  glad  he  would  have 
been  to  have  visited  them  again,  "  had  the  state  of  the 
Agamemnon  allowed  of  it,"  but  "  her  ship's  crew  are 
so  totally  worn  out,  that  we  were  glad  to  get  into  the 
first  port,  .  .  .  therefore  for  the  present  I  am  de- 
prived of  that  pleasure." 

When  Nelson  was  not  dining  at  court  or  concerting 
operations  with  the  Ministers,,  he  was  at  the  Embassy 
or  Caserta,  meeting  the  English  visitors,  who  included 
the  delicate  Charles  Beauclerk,  whom  the  artistic  Lady 
Diana  had  commended  to  Emma's  (harge.  All  was 
joy,  excitement,  preparation.  "  I  believe,"  wrote  Nel- 
son, "  that  the  world  is  now  convinced  that  no  con- 
quests of  importance  can  be  made  without  us."  Nel- 
son had  aroused  Naples  from  a  long  siesta,  and  hence- 
forward Emma  sings  "  God  save  the  King  "  and  calls 
for  "  Hip,  hip,  hurrah !  "  which  she  teaches  the  Queen, 
at  every  Neapolitan  banquet.  Naples  is  no  more  a 
hunting-ground  for  health  or  pleasure,  but  a  focus  of 
deliverance.  It  is  as  though  in  our  own  days  the 
Riviera  should  suddenly  wake  up  as  a  centre  of  patri- 
otism and  a  rallying-ground  for  action.  Within  a  few 
years  Maria  Carolina  could  write  to  Emma  of  singing 
the  national  anthem,  and  in  the  year  of  the  Nile  battle, 
of  the  "  brave,  loyal  nation,"  and  of  the  "  mag- 
nanimous "  English,  whom  she  loves  and  for  whose 
glory  she  has  vowed  to  act.  As  for  Nelson,  he  was 
in  that  year  to  be  called  her  deliverer,  her  preserver, 
and  her  "  hero." 

On  September  24th  Nelson  purposed  a  slight  mark 
of  gratitude  for  the  hospitality  and  the  substantial 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  155 

reinforcements  so  liberally  proffered.  The  Agamem- 
non was  all  flowers  and  festivity.  He  had  invited  the 
King,  the  Queen,  the  Hamiltons,  Acton,  and  the  Min- 
isters to  luncheon.  The  guests  were  awaiting  the  ar- 
rival of  the  court  under  a  cloudless  sky  amid  the  flutter 
of  gay  bunting  and  all  the  careless  chatter  of  southern 
mirth.  Suddenly  a  despatch  was  handed  to  the  cap- 
tain. He  was  summoned  to  weigh  anchor  and  pursue 
a  French  man-of-war  with  three  vessels  stationed  off 
Sardinia.  Not  an  instant  was  lost.  The  guests  dis- 
persed in  excitement.  When  Ferdinand  arrived  in 
his  barge,  it  was  to  find  the  company  vanished,  the 
decks  cleared,  and  the  captain  buried  in  work.  Within 
two  hours  Nelson  had  set  sail  for  Leghorn,  which  he 
had  immediately  to  quit  for  Toulon.  Calvi  and  its 
further  triumph  awaited  him  afterwards. 

But  over  the  bright  horizon  was  fast  gathering  a 
cloud  no  bigger  than  a  man's  hand.  By  the  end  of 
the  year  the  Queen  was  again  in  the  depths.  Her 
sister  had  been  executed  with  infamy.  Buonaparte — 
whom  Nelson  heard  described  at  Leghorn  as  an  "  ugly, 
unshaven  little  officer  " — had  shot  into  pre-eminence 
and  had  worked  his  wonders;  Toulon  was  evacuated. 
At  home  fresh  conspiracies  were  discovered,  this  time 
among  the  nobles.  The  best  names  were  implicated. 
The  Dukes  of  Canzano,  Colonna,  and  Cassano,  the 
Counts  of  Ruvo  and  Riario,  Prince  Caracciolo  the 
elder  were  arrested.  The  whole  political  landscape 
was  overcast.  Next  year  was  to  be  one  of  "  public 
mourning  and  prayer,"  of  plague,  famine,  and 
pestilence.  The  ragged  remnant  of  the  squadron,  for- 
warded with  such  royal  elation  to  Toulon,  returned  in 
shame  for  shelter;  and  with  it  the  ship  of  Trogoff, 
whom  the  French  had  branded  as  traitor.  Two  hun- 
dred victims  had  been  slaughtered,  four  hundred  lan- 
guished in  French  prisons.  These  fresh  disasters  were 


156  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

heightened  and  shadowed  by  the  terrible  earthquake 
of  June  1 2- 1 6,  when  the  sun  was  blotted  out ;  and  while 
the  Archbishop,  grasping  the  gilt  image  of  St.  Janu- 
arius,  groped  his  way  in  solemn  procession  to  the 
cathedral,  the  darkened  sky  bombarded  the  interceding 
city  with  emblematic  bolts  of  relentless  artillery. 


CHAPTER  VI 

"  STATESWOMAN  " 
1794-1797 

TATES  WOMAN"  is  Swift's  term  for  Stella. 

It  fits  better  the  Trilby  of  the  political  studio. 

The  muse  as  medium  was  already  being  trans- 
ferred from  attitude  to  affairs. 

Since  Nelson's  brief  sojourn  and  its  keen  impress, 
the  Queen, .under  growing  troubles,  leaned  more  and 
more  on  the  English.  The  King's  pro-Spanish  faction 
was  now  defied;  even  the  pro-Austrian  group  lost 
ground  and  flagged.  Acton,  save  for  a  brief  interval, 
remained  her  right  hand — hie,  hac,  et  hoc  et  omnia,  as 
they  now  styled  him.  The  Hamiltons'  enthusiasm  for 
the  budding  hero  had  communicated  itself  through 
Emma  to  her  royal  friend,  who  had  hitherto  cared  little 
even  for  the  English  language.  Maria  Carolina  clung 
more  closely  to  a  consoler  not  only  responsive  and  di- 
verting, but  unversed  enough  in  courts  to  be  flattered 
by  the  intimacy  and  free  in  it.  They  were  constantly 
together;  by  1795  so  often  as  every  other  day.  It 
was  "  naturalness  "  and  "  sensibility  "  once  more  that 
prevailed.  Doubtless,  policy  entered  also  into  her 
motives.  Notes  to  Emma  would  pass  unsuspected 
where  notes  to  Sir  William  might  be  watched.  Verbal 
confidences  to  a  frequenter  of  the  palace  would  never 
excite  the  curiosity  which  Sir  William's  formal  pres- 
ence must  arouse.  But  the  bond  of  policy  was  mutual. 
Hamilton  encouraged  his  wife  to  glean  secret  in- 

157 


158  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

formation  for  the  British  Government.  What  the 
Queen  did  not  at  first  realise,  though  afterwards  she 
recognised  it  to  the  full,  was  Lady  Hamilton's  "  native 
energy  of  mind  "  which  Hayley,  comforting  her  after 
Nelson's  death,  recalled  as  one  of  her  earliest  char- 
acteristics; and  for  the  work  of  life,  as  has  been  truly 
said,  inborn  vigour  is  apter  than  cultivated  refine- 
ment. 

Emma  now  definitely  emerges  as  patriot  and  poli- 
tician. Did  she  aspire  thus  early  to  help  her  country  ? 
The  field  of  controversy  begins  to  open,  and  con- 
troversy is  always  irksome.  It  is  necessary,  however, 
at  this  juncture,  to  consider  this  first  of  Emma's 
"  claims  "  in  its  context. 

In  her  latest  memorial  for  the  recognition  of  her 
"  services  " — her  petition  to  the  Prince  Regent  of  1813 
— she  claimed  to  have  responded  to  the  then  Sir  John 
Jervis's  appeals  for  help  while  employed  upon  the  re- 
duction of  Corsica.  In  this  statement,  which  is  one  of 
several,  she  makes  some  confusion  between  two  names 
influential  in  two  successive  years.  If  such  lapses  as 
these  stood  alone,  without  substantial  evidence  beneath 
them,  her  censors  might  have  been  fairly  justified  in 
pressing  them  to  the  utmost.  But  since  (as  will  be 
shown)  there  is  strong  corroboration  of  the  substance 
of  her  services  in  1796,  considerable  proof  of  her  main 
service  in  1798,  with  abundant  new  and  historical  evi- 
dence for  her  truthfulness  in  the  account  of  the  part 
played  by  her  in  the  royal  escape  just  before  Christmas 
of  the  same  year — they  amount  to  little  more  than  the 
immaterial  inaccuracies  which  recur  in  several  of  her 
recitals.  Her  critics,  in  fixing  on  the  memorial  to  the 
Prince  Regent — framed  in  her  declining  years  and  her 
extremest  need — have  consistently  ignored  her  other 
applications  for  relief,  and  especially  that  to  King 
George  III.  in  which  she  does  not  specify  this  claim 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  159 

at  all,  but  only  implies  it  under  "  many  inferior 
services." 

In  her  "  Prince  Regent "  memorial  she  urges  that 
"  In  the  year  1793,  when  Lord  Hood  had  taken  pos- 
session of  Toulon,  and  Sir  John  Jervis  was  employ'd 
upon  the  reduction  of  Corsica,  the  latter  kept  writing 
to  me  for  everything  he  wanted  which  I  procured  to  be 
promptly  provided  him ;  and,  as  his  letters  to  me  prove, 
had  considerably  facilitated  the  reduction  of  that  island. 
I  had  by  this  time  induced  the  King  through  my  in- 
fluence with  the  Queen  to  become  so  zealous  in  the 
good  cause,  that  both  would  often  say  I  had  de-Bour- 
boniz'd  them  and  made  them  English." 

In  the  same  "  memorial  "  she  mentions  a  side-cir- 
cumstance which  can  now  be  fully  substantiated.  She 
there  asserts  that  Sir  William  in  his  "  latter  moments, 
in  deputing  Mr.  Greville  to  deliver  the  Order  of  the 
Bath  to  the  King,  desired  that  he  would  tell  His 
Majesty  that  he  died  in  the  confident  hope  that  his  pen- 
sion would  be  continued  to  me  for  my  zeal  and  service." 
Greville's  letter  of  1803  more  than  bears  out  her 
veracity  in  this  trifle.  Greville  himself,  the  precisest  of 
officials,  and  just  after  his  uncle's  death  by  no  means 
on  the  best  of  terms  with  Lady  Hamilton,  added  that 
he  knew  that  the  public  "  records "  confirmed  "  the 
testimony  of  their  Sicilian  Majesties  by  letter  as  well 
as  by  their  ministers,  of  circumstances  peculiarly  dis- 
tinguished and  honourable  to  her,  and  at  the  same  time 
of  high  importance  to  the  public  service."  Hamilton's 
own  share  in  the  many  transactions  which  are  to  follow 
passed  equally  disregarded  with  his  widow's.  And 
with  regard  to  the  preliminary  "  service  "  which  we 
must  now  discuss,  she  repeats  her  asseveration  in  al- 
'most  the  last  letter  that  she  ever  wrote,  adding  that  in 
this  case,  as  in  the  others,  she  paid  "  often  and  often 
out  of  her  own  pocket  at  Naples." 


160  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

As  has  been  recounted,  Hood  took  Toulon  in 
August,  1793.  It  had  to  be  evacuated  on  December 
i/th  of  that  year;  and  it  was  Lord  Hood,  not  the 
future  Lord  St.  Vincent,  who  superintended  the  Cor- 
sican  operations  from  the  December  of  1793  to  their 
issue  in  Nelson's  heroism  at  Calvi  in  July,  1794.  Sir 
John  Jervis,  on  the  other  hand,  was  in  command  of 
the  West  Indian  expedition  of  1794.  He  does  not,  it 
is  true,  figure  as  corresponding  with  the  Hamiltons  on 
naval  affairs  until  1798,  when,  in  an  interesting  cor- 
respondence, he  thanks  her  for  services  as  "  patroness 
of  the  navy,"  protests  his  "  unfeigned  affectionate  re- 
gard," and  signs  himself  her  "  faithful  and  devoted 
knight."  But  none  the  less  he  was  (and  this  has 
eluded  notice)  in  close  correspondence  with  Acton 
throughout  the  early  portion  of  1796. 

Such,  then,  in  this  instance,  are  the  material  dis- 
crepancies. In  dwelling  long  afterwards  on  her  first 
endeavours  for  her  country,  she  transposed  the 
sequence  of  two  successive  years,  while  she  confounded 
Lord  Hood  and  the  future  Lord  St.  Vincent  together. 
Little  sagacity,  however,  is  needed  to  perceive  that 
these  very  confusions  point  to  her  sincerity.  Had  she 
been  forging  claims,  imperatively  raised  in  the  ex- 
tremities of  her  fate,  nothing  would  have  been  easier 
than  to  have  verified  these  trifles,  especially  as  many 
of  Nelson's  friends  remained  staunch  to  her  till  the 
close.  Wilful  liars  do  not  concoct  and  elaborate  evi- 
dence manifestly  against  themselves.  For  the  truth  of 
this,  the  least  important  and  most  general  of  her 
services,  Acton's  manuscript  correspondence  of  these 
years  with  Hamilton  supplies  a  new  presumption. 
What  England  wanted  during  these  two  years  from  the 
Neapolitan  premier  was  something  outside  and  be- 
yond what  her  treaty  with  Sicily  enabled  her,  as  a  fact, 
to  receive,  and  it  was  just  these  extras  that  Emma's 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  161 

rising  ascendency  with  the  Queen  and  her  own  am- 
bition may  have  prompted  her  to  procure. 

The  real  pretexts  for  refusal,  as  we  shall  find  in  their 
proper  place,  were  not  scepticism,  but  royal  disfavour, 
technical  precedent,  lapse  of  time,  private  pique^  and 
party  interest.  Canning  thought  her  "  richly  entitled  " 
to  compensation.  Grenville  himself  did  not  deny  the 
performance  of  her  services.  Addington  grounded 
his  refusal  mainly  on  the  multiplicity  of  other  claims 
on  the  Government. 

The  year  1794  at  Naples  was  one  of  continuous 
calamity;  while  successive  catastrophes  were  height- 
ened by  the  undoubted  tyrannies  of  the  Queen.  France, 
by  fomenting  the  Neapolitan  ferment,  was  deliberately 
inveigling  the  two  Sicilies.  No  quarter  would  Maria 
Carolina  give  to  the  French  assassins  or  to  the  Neapol- 
itan republicans.  Hitherto,  in  the  main,  her  old  clem- 
ency had  found  vent,  and  she  had  striven  to  be  just. 
She  still  deemed  justice  her  motive,  but  she  deceived 
herself.  While  the  King  always  remained  optimist, 
her  pessimism  verged  on  madness.  She  treated  affairs 
of  State  just  as  if  they  had  been  affairs  of  the  heart. 
Her  mistrust  both  of  the  conspiring  nobles  and  the 
thankless  students,  now,  from  changed  incentives,  in 
attempted  combination,  showed  signs  of  yielding  to  a 
paroxysm  of  revenge  disguised  by  an  inscrutable  face. 
Robespierre  was  branded  on  her  brain.  Her  word  for 
every  rebellious  aristocrat  was  "  We  will  not  give  him 
time  to  become  a  Robespierre."  The  close  of  the  year 
witnessed  Robespierre's  doom,  and  a  false  lull  brought 
with  it  a  film  of  security.  Yet  the  signal  baseness  now 
confronting  her  would  have  justified  a  moderate  sever- 
ity. Disaffection  was  not  native  but  imported.  The 
great  mass  of  the  people  never  wavered  in  allegiance 
to  the  King  of  the  Lazzaroni,  and  agitation  was  bought 


1 62  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

and  manipulated  by  France.  The  rest  of  Europe 
recognised  the  real  significance  of  these  insurrections. 
"  God  knows,"  wrote  Nelson  to  the  Hamiltons  in  1796, 
"  I  only  feel  for  the  King  of  Naples,  as  I  am  con- 
fident the  change  in  his  Government  would  be  sub- 
versive of  the  interest  of  all  Europe."  The  English 
Government,  the  Russian,  even  the  Prussian,  felt  the 
same.  The  Queen,  who  had  really  done  so  much  in 
the  teeth  of  sharp  difficulties  for  the  "  Intellectuels," 
was  beside  herself.  Jacobinism,  at  first  narrowed  to  a 
faction,  afterwards,  at  the  worst,  diffused  as  a  leaven, 
was  by  this  time  hydra-headed.  Its  disorders  had 
spread  to  Sicily,  where  their  suppression  had  been  sig- 
nalised by  the  execution  of  the  ringleaders  and  the  im- 
prisonment of  three  hundred.  By  the  spring  of  1795 
the  French  had  divulged  their  determination  of  at- 
tacking the  British  squadron  in  the  Mediterranean. 
The  receivers  of  her  most  generous  bounty  bit  the  hand 
of  their  benefactress.  Luigi  di  Medici,  the  young 
cavalier  on  whom  she  had  conferred  absolute  power, 
was  denounced  by  a  mathematical  professor.  As 
"  Regente  della  Vicaria  "  he  was  tried  by  the  last  nov- 
elty in  tribunals,  an  invention  of  Acton.  Besides  other 
old  hands  like  the  inevitable  Prince  Pignatelli,  it 
consisted  of  three  principal  assessors — Guidobaldi,  a 
judge;  Prince  Castelcicala,  a  prop  always  trusted;  and 
lastly  Vanni,  a  man  of  the  people,  a1  "  professional  " 
whom  the  Queen  had  actually  made  Marquis.  This 
trio  was  nicknamed  "  Cerberus."  It  was  the  reverse 
of  former  experiments:  for  the  first  time  two  mem- 
bers of  the  disaffected  "  professionals  "  were  admitted 
into  the  bureaucracy.  Vanni,  a  miniature  Marat,  who 
well  merited  his  subsequent  downfall,  dictated;  and  his 
dictatorship  stank  in  the  nostrils  of  all  Italy  as  "  the 
white  terror  of  Naples."  Di  Medici  had  himself 
headed  a  fresh  conspiracy — for  the  King's  murder — 


Lady  Hamilton  as  Circe. 
From   the   original  painting   by   George  Romney. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  163 

which  for  a  long  time  simmered  in  the  political  caldron. 
He  was  imprisoned  in  the  fortress  of  Gaeta,  to  re- 
appear, however,  a  few  years  later  as  a  pardoned 
protege.  Prince  Caramanico,  despatched  after  Sici- 
gniano's  sad  suicide  to  the  Embassy  in  London,  died  be- 
fore starting,  with  the  usual  suspicion  of  poison.  The 
execution  in  the  "  Mercato  Vecchio  "  of  the  cultivated 
Tommaso  Amato,  who  was  deprived  even  of  supreme 
unction,  lent  its  first  horror  to  the  notorious  death- 
chamber  of  the  "  Capella  della  Vicaria,"  and  was  soon 
followed  by  that  of  sixty  more  Jacobins.  The  cause 
of  "  order  and  religion  "  was  publicly  pitted  against 
these  damnable  heresies.  Even  communications  with 
the  self-styled  "  Patriots  "  were  to  be  punished.  It 
was  decreed  treason  for  more  than  ten  to  assemble, 
save  by  license.  The  judges,  it  is  true,  were  bidden 
to  be  "  conscientious  in  equity  and  justice,"  but  three 
witnesses  sufficed  for  the  death-sentence.  Apart  from 
capital  sentences,  the  castles  and  prisons  were  crammed 
with  suspects,  so  much  so  that  those  of  Brindisi  were 
requisitioned.  Massacres  desolated  Sicily;  blood  ran 
in  the  Neapolitan  streets.  Ferdinand,  who  had  been 
amusing  himself  by  lengthened  law-suits  with  the 
Prince  of  Tarsia  over  a  silk  monopoly,  called  on  the 
clergy  to  expose  the  "  French  errors  " ;  and  at  Naples 
devotion  and  disaster  ever  trod  closely  on  each  other's 
heels.  Three  days  of  solemn  prayer  were  once  more 
decreed  in  the  Metropolitan  Church  of  St.  Januarius. 
Both  King  and  Queen  were  perpetually  seen  in  devout 
attendance  at  the  principal  shrines.  The  pulpits 
preached  "  death  to  the  French,"  and  war  against 
Jacobinism  was  declared  religious.  To  be  a  "  patriot  " 
(an  innocent  fault  in  palmier  days)  was  now  sacrilege. 
A  fresh  eve  of  St.  Bartholomew  was  feared.  In  a 
word,  the  methods  of  crushing  rebellion  and  opinion 

were  eminently  southern,  but  they  were  also  a  counter- 
Memoirs — Vol.  14 — 6 


164  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

blast  to  equal  barbarities  in  the  north.  Save  for  the 
sansculottes  and  their  propaganda,  Naples  would  have 
escaped  the  fever  and  remained  a  drowsy  castle  of  con- 
tented indolence. 

While,  as  queen,  Maria  Carolina  cowed  the  city,  as 
woman  she  was  demented  by  Buonaparte's  Italian  vic- 
tories. Naples,  alone  of  all  Italy,  still  defied  him. 
The  Neapolitan  royalties — to  their  honour — sacrificed 
fortune  and  jewels  to  dare  the  new  Alexander.  At 
the  same  time,  they  called  on  both  nobles  and  ecclesi- 
astics to  emulate  their  public  spirit,  and  thereby  uncon- 
sciously did  much  to  hasten  the  "  patriot  "  insurrection. 
One  hundred  and  three  thousand  ducats  were  de- 
manded from  the  town,  one  hundred  and  twenty  thou- 
sand from  the  nobles;  church  property  was  alienated. 
Everything  was  seized  for  the  common  cause.  The 
news  of  Nelson's  heroism  and  the  English  triumph  in 
Corsica  was  received  with  rapture.  And  the  Neapol- 
itan troops  on  this  occasion  shamed  the  general 
cowardice.  By  1795  Prince  Moliterno  was  acclaimed 
a  national  hero;  the  courage  of  General  Cuto's  three 
regiments  in  the  Tyrol  raised  the  Neapolitan  name, 
while  Mantua  and  Rome  showed  the  white  feather  and 
necessitated  the  onerous  peace  of  Brescia. 

It  may  now  be  guessed  what  agitated  the  Queen's 
bosom  as  day  by  day  she  sat  down  to  pen  her  French 
missives  to  Emma,  and  what  were  the  feelings  natur- 
ally instilled  in  Emma  by  Hamilton,  Nelson's  letters, 
and  the  Queen.  The  Jacobin  cause  was  the  prime  pest 
of  Europe,  to  be  crushed  at  all  costs;  Napoleon,  an 
impudent  upstart  and  usurper;  the  Neapolitan  rebels, 
monsters  of  ingratitude  and  treachery.  All  these  con- 
victions were  as  binding  as  articles  of  faith.  Emma's 
own  heart  was  tender  to  a  fault.  She  detested  blood- 
shed and  liked  to  use  her  influence  for  mercy,  as,  to 
do  her  bare  justice,  was  then  the  Queen's  instinct,  after 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  165 

the  first  spasm  had  passed.  In  Emma's  eyes  the  Queen 
herself,  so  kind  and  good  at  home,  so  sincere  and 
friendly,  was  "  adorable."  She  could  do  no  wrong. 
The  past  peccadilloes  of  this  baffling  woman,  contrast- 
ing with  her  present  domesticity,  seemed  to  her,  even 
if  she  believed  them,  merely  a  royal  prerogative.  She 
was — as  Emma  assured  Greville  in  a  letter  congratulat- 
ing him  on  his  new  vice-chamberlainship,  "  Every- 
thing one  can  wish — the  best  mother,  wife,  and  freind 
in  the  world.  I  live  constantly  with  her,  and  have 
done  intimately  so  for  2  years,  and  I  never  have  in  all 
that  time  seen  anything  but  goodness  and  sincerity  in 
her,  and  if  ever  you  hear  any  lyes  about  her,  contradict 
them,  and  if  you  shou'd  see  a  cursed  book  written  by 
a  vile  French  dog,  with  her  character  in  it,  don't  be- 
lieve one  word."  Hours  passed  with  her  were  "  en- 
chantment." "  No  person  can  be  so  charming  as  the 
Queen.  If  I  was  her  daughter  she  could  not  be 
kinder  to  me,  and  I  love  her  with  my  whole  soul."  As 
she  grew  more  influential  on  the  stirring  scene  she 
caught  and  exaggerated  her  royal  friend's  effusiveness. 
"  Oh  that  everyone,"  is  her  endorsement  on  a  letter, 
"  could  know  her  as  I  do,  they  would  esteem  her  as  I 
do  from  my  soul.  May  every  good  attend  her  and 
hers."  Thus  Ruth,  of  Naomi.  From  such  a  friend 
impartiality  was  no  more  to  be  expected  than  from 
such  enemies  as  the  "  vile  French  dogs." 

The  Queen's  correspondence 1  with  Emma  opens 
earlier  with  a  touching  note  about  the  fate  of  the  poor 
Dauphin;  a  sweet  little  portrait  still  remains  under  its 
cover.  This  innocent  child,  she  wrote,  implores  a  sig- 

1  Most  of  her  letters  of  this  and  the  next  five  years  are 
transcribed  from  the  various  Egerton  MS.  by  R.  Palumbo  in 
his  Maria  Carolina  and  Emma  Hamilton,  which  to  much  valuable 
material  adds  some  of  the  old  rumours  about  her  earlier  and 
later  life. 


166  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

nal  vengeance  for  the  massacre  of  his  parents  before 
the  Eternal  Throne.  His  afflictions  "  have  renewed 
wounds  that  will  never  heal."  In  January,  1794,  a 
fete  was  given  by  the  Hamiltons  to  Prince  Augustus. 
It  was  a  golden  occasion  for  fanning  the  English  fever, 
which  by  now  had  spread  throughout  the  loyalist  ranks. 
The  Queen's  letter  of  that  afternoon  begged  the 
hostess  to  tell  her  company  "  God  save  great  George 
our  King,"  rejoiced  over  the  Anglo-Sicilian  alliance, 
and  sent  her  compliments  to  all  the  English  present. 
In  the  following  June  she  exulted  over  George's  speech 
to  Parliament  renewing  the  war.  She  longed  for 
English  news  from  Toulon.  At  his  fete  two  years 
later,  she  was  to  protest  that  she  loved  the  British 
prince  as  a  son.  She  was  perpetually  anxious  about 
Emma's  health  and  prescribing  remedies.  As  for  her 
own  "  old  health,"  it  was  not  worth  her  young  friend's 
disquietude.  When  Sir  William  lay  at  death's  door 
she  bade  her  "  put  confidence  in  God,  who  never  for- 
sakes those  who  trust  in  Him,"  and  count  on  the 
"  sincere  friendship "  of  her  "  attached  friend." 
Emma's  performances  she  applauded  to  the  skies,  espe- 
cially that  of  "  Nina,"  which  had  been  Romney's 
favourite. 

In  one  of  her  constant  billets  she  tenderly  inquired 
after  "  ce  cher  aimable  bienfaisant  eveque  " — the  flip- 
pant but  kindly  worldling  and  "  Right  Reverend  Father 
in  God  "  (as  Beckford  terms  him)  Lord  Bristol,  Bishop 
of  Derry.  Of  this  odd  wit,  erratic  vagrant  and  senti- 
mental scapegrace,  so  typical  of  a  century  that  in- 
cluded both  Horace  Walpole  and  Laurence  Sterne — a 
veritable  Gallio-in-gaiters,  with  his  whimsical  projects 
for  endless  improvements,  his  connoisseurship,  his  rest- 
lessness, his  real  pluck  and  independence,  we  have  al- 
ready caught  glimpses  in  eccentric  attire  at  Caserta. 
One  of  his  queerest  features  was  the  blended  care 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  167 

and  carelessness  both  of  money  and  family.  Attached 
to  his  devoted  and  economical  daughter  Louisa,  he 
quarrelled  with  his  son  for  not  marrying  an  heiress. 
His  bitterest  reproach  against  his  old  wife  was  that 
she  disbelieved  "  in  the  current  coin  of  the  realm." 
Lady  Hamilton  thus  at  this  time  described  him  to 
Greville :  "  He  is  very  fond  of  me,  and  very  kind. 
He  is  very  entertaining  and  dashes  at  everything.  Nor 
does  he  mind  King  and  Queen  when  he  is  inclined  to 
shew  his  talents."  The  French  victories  were  soon 
to  be  fatal  to  the  esprit  moqueur,  and  to  cool  his  volatile 
impatience  for  some  eighteen  months  within  the 
clammy  walls  of  a  Milanese  fortress.  Besides  his 
autographs  in  the  Morrison  Collection,  and  two  now 
belonging  to  the  writer,  a  few  letters  from  him  to 
Emma  exist  in  that  surreptitious  edition  of  the  pilfered 
Nelson  Letters  which,  in  1814,  were  to  add  one  more 
drop  to  her  cup  of  bitterness.  They  all  show  that  he 
purveyed  information,  both  serious  and  scandalous, 
through  Emma  to  the  Queen.  They  stamp  the  in- 
triguer, the  patriot,  and  the  friend.  The  first  seems 
written  among  the  embroilments  of  1793. 

The  sale  and  purchase  of  antiquities  absorbed  him 
like  Sir  William;  unlike  the  Ambassador,  he  never 
shirked  labour,  but  rather  meddled  officiously  with  the 
departments  over  which  his  leisurely  friend  had  been 
up  to  now  so  disposed  to  loiter.  In  1793  he  is  to  be 
found  spying  on  the  spies  who  misled  "  the  dear,  dear 
Queen."  At  the  opening,  too,  of  1794,  he  forwards 
Venetian  secrets  to  be  communicated  "  a  la  premiere 
des  femmes,  cette  tnaltresse  femme."  "  I  have  been 
in  bed,"  he  adds,  "  these  four  weeks  with  what  is  called 
a  flying  gout,  but  were  it  such  it  would  be  gone  long 
ago,  and  it  hovers  round  me  like  a  ghost  round  its 
sepulchre."  In  1795  again  the  nomad  was  at  Berlin 
routing  out  State-secrets.  The  date  of  the  following 


i68 

must  be  that  of  the  shameful  Austrian  treaties  in 
1797  which  succeeded  the  galling  peace  of  Brescia. 

"  MY    EVER    DEAREST    LADY    HAMILTON, 1    should 

certainly  have  made  this  Sunday  an  holy  day  to  me,  and 
have  taken  a  Sabbath  day's  journey  to  Caserta,  had  not 
poor  Mr.  Lovel  been  confined  to  his  bed  above  three 
days  with  a  fever.  To-day  it  is  departed;  to-morrow 
Dr.  Nudi  has  secured  us  from  its  resurrection;  and 
after  to-morrow,  I  hope,  virtue  will  be  its  own  reward. 
.  .  .  All  public  and  private  accounts  agree  in  the  im- 
mediate prospect  of  a  general  peace.  It  will  make  a 
delicious  foreground  in  the  picture  of  the  new  year; 
many  of  which  I  wish,  from  the  top,  bottom,  and 
centre  of  my  heart,  to  the  incomparable  Emma — qnella 
senza  paragone."  The  next  snatch  is  worth  quoting 
for  its  humour : — "  I  went  down  to  your  opera-box 
two  minutes  after  you  left ;  and  should  have  seen  you 
on  the  morning  of  your  departure — but  was  detained  in 
the  arms  of  Murphy,  as  Lady  Eden  expresses  it,  and 
was  too  late.  You  say  nothing  of  the  adorable  Queen ; 
I  hope  she  has  not  forgot  me.  ...  I  veritably  deem 
her  the  very  best  edition  of  a  woman  I  ever  saw — I 
mean  of  such  as  are  not  in  folio.  .  .  .  My  duties  ob- 
struct my  pleasure.  ...  You  see,  I  am  but  the  sec- 
ond letter  of  your  alphabet,  though  you  are  the  first  of 
mine." 

A  last  extract,  penned  a  few  months  after  his  libera- 
tion, must  complete  this  vignette : — "  I  know  not,  dear- 
est Emma,  whether  friend  Sir  William  has  been  able 
to  obtain  my  passport  or  not ;  but  this  I  know — that 
if  they  have  refused  it,  they  are  damned  fools  for  their 
pains:  for  never  was  a  Malta  orange  better  worth 
squeezing  or  sucking ;  and  if  they  leave  me  to  die,  with- 
out a  tombstone  over  me  to  tell  the  contents — taut  pis 
pour  eux.  In  the  meantime,  I  will  frankly  confess 
to  you  that  my  health  most  seriously  and  urgently  re- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  169 

quires  the  balmy  air  of  dear  Naples,  and  the  more 
balmy  atmosphere  of  those  I  love,  arid  who  love  me; 
and  that  I  shall  forego  rriy  garret  with  more  regret 
than  most  people  of  my  silly  rank  in  society  forego 
a  palace  or  a  drawing-room."  He  then  sketched  his 
tour  on  horseback  to  "  that  unexplored  region  Dal- 
matia  " ;  he  described  Spalato  as  "  a  modern  city  built 
within  the  precincts  of  an  ancient  palace."  Spalato 
reminded  him  of  Diocletian,  the  "  wise  sovereigti  who 
quitted  the  sceptre  of  an  architect's  rule,"  and  the  two 
together,  of  a  new  project  for  a  "  packet-boat  in  these 
perilous  times  between  Spalato  and  Manfredonia." 

The  serious  debut  of  Emma  as  "  Stateswoman  "  (in 
the  sense  of  England's  spokeswoman  at  Naples)  chimes 
with  the  episode  of  the  King  of  Spain's  secret  letters 
heralding  and  announcing  his  rupture  with  the  anti- 
French  alliance  during  1795  and  1796.  But  before 
dealing  with  that  crisis,  I  may  be  pardoned  for  glanc- 
ing at  one  more  picturesque  figure  among  Emma's  sur- 
roundings— that  of  Wilhelmina,  Countess  of  Lich- 
tenau. 

She  was  nobly  born  and  bred ;  but  in  girlhood,  under 
a  broken  promise,  it  would  seem,  of  morganatic  mar- 
riage, had  become  mistress  and  intellectual  companion 
of  Frederick,  King  of  Prussia — a  tie  countenanced  by 
her  mother.  Political  intrigue  drove  her  from  Berlin 
to  Italy,  as  it  afterwards  involved  her  in  despair  and 
ruin.  She  was  cultivated,  artistic,  sensitive,  and  un- 
happy. She  became  the  honoured  correspondent  of 
many  distinguished  statesmen  and  authors.  Lavater 
and  Arthur  Paget  were  her  firm  friends,  as  also  the 
luckless  Alexandre  Sauveur,  already  noticed  in  his 
"  hermitage "  on  Mount  Vesuvius.  Lord  Bristol, 
naturally,  knelt  at  her  shrine.  In  her  Memoires  she 
frankly  admits  that  she  (like  Emma)  was  vain;  but 
maintains  that  all  women  are  so  by  birthright.  Lovel, 


170  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

the  parson  friend  of  the  Bishop  of  Derry,  used  to  sign 
himself  her  "  brother  by  adoption,"  and  address  her  as 
"  a  very  dear  sister  " ;  Paget  corresponded  with  her  as 
"  dear  Wilhelmina."  Throughout  1795  she  was  at 
Naples,  where  her  cicisbeo  was  the  handsome  Chevalier 
de  Saxe,  afterwards  killed  in  a  duel  with  the  Russian 
M.  Saboff.  A  letter  from  him  towards  the  close  of 
this  year  of  Neapolitan  enthusiasm  for  the  English, 
when  the  Elliots  among  others  were  praising  and  ap- 
plauding Emma  to  the  skies,  describes  the  great  ball 
given  by  Lady  Plymouth  in  celebration  of  Prince 
Augustus's  birthday.  The  supper  was  one  of  enthusi- 
asm and  "  God  save  the  King."  "  They  drank,"  he 
chronicles,  "a  I'Anglaise:  the  toasts  were  noisy,  and 
the  healths  of  others  were  so  flattered  as  to  derange  our 
own."  Sir  William  was  constantly  begging  of  her  to 
forward  the  sale  of  his  collections  at  the  Russian  cap- 
ital; nor  was  tea,  now  fashionable  at  court,  the  least 
agent  for  English  interests.  Emma  herself  had  be- 
come the  "  fair  tea-maker  "  of  the  Chiaja  instead  of, 
as  once,  of  Edgware  Row,  and  Mrs.  Cadogan  too  held 
her  own  tea-parties.  Emma  often  corresponded  with 
the  beautiful  Countess,  and  one  of  her  letters  of  this 
period,  not  here  transcribed,  supplies  evidence  of  what 
kind  of  French  she  had  learned  to  write  by  a  period 
when  she  had  mastered  not  only  Neapolitan  patois  but 
Spanish  and  Italian.  At  the  troublous  outset  of  1796 
Wilhelmina  quitted  Italy  never  to  return. 

These  characters  are  scarcely  edifying.  The  scoff- 
ing Bishop,  the  frail  Countess,  however,  were  a  typ- 
ical outcome  of  sincere  reaction  against  hollow  and 
hypocritical  observance.  There  was  nothing  diabolical 
about  them.  The  virtues  that  they  professed,  they 
practised;  their  faults,  those  of  free  thinkers  and  free 
livers,  do  not  differentiate  them  from  their  contem- 
poraries. It  is  surely  remarkable  that  these,  and  such 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  171 

as  these,  paved  the  way  for  Nelson's  vindication  of 
Great  Britain  in  the  Mediterranean,  far  more  than 
the  train  of  decent  frivolity  and  formal  virtue  that  did 
nothing  without  distinction.  High  Bohemia  has  al- 
ways wielded  some  power  in  the  world.  Far  more 
was  it  a  force  when  the  French  Revolution  threatened 
the  very  foundations  of  society,  and  opened  up  ave- 
nues to  every  sort  of  adventure  and  adventurer. 

Emma  has  already  been  found  twice  acquainting 
Greville  of  her  new  metier  as  politician.  Her  present 
circumstances  and  influence  over  the  Queen  may  be 
gauged  independently  by  a  letter  from  her  husband 
to  his  nephew  from  Caserta  of  November,  which  has 
only  recently  passed  into  the  national  collection : — 

".  .  .  Here  we  are  as  usual  for  the  winter  hunting 
and  shooting  season,  and  Emma  is  not  at  all  dis- 
pleased to  retire  with  me  at  times  from  the  great  world, 
altho'  no  one  is  better  received  when  she  chuses  to  go 
into  it.  The  Queen  of  Naples  seems  to  have  great 
pleasure  in  her  society.  She  sends  for  her  generally 
three  or  four  times  a  week.  ...  In  fact,  all  goes  well 
chez  nous.  [He  is  taking  more  exercise.]  .  .  .  I  have 
not  neglected  of  my  duty,  and  flatter  myself  that  I 
must  be  approved  of  at  home  for  some  real  services 
which  my  particular  situation  at  this  court  has  en- 
abled me  to  render  to  our  Ministry.  I  have  at  least  the 
satisfaction  of  feeling  that  I  have  done  all  in  my  power, 
altho'  at  the  expense  of  my  own  health  and  fortune." 
This  last  sentence  points  to  the  political  situation,  and 
Emma's  assistance  in  the  episode  of  the  King  of 
Spain's  letters;  for  not  one,  but  a  whole  series  were 
involved. 

These  letters,  from  1795  to  1796,  were  the  secret 
channels  by  which  Ferdinand  was  made  aware  first  of 
his  brother's  intention  to  desert  the  Alliance,  and,  in 
the  next  year,  to  join  the  enemy. 


172 

In  touching  the  effects  and  causes  of  an  event  so 
critical,  Emma's  pretensions  to  a  part  in  its  discovery 
must  be  discussed  also.  Their  consideration,  inter- 
rupting the  sequence  of  our  narrative,  will  not  affect  its 
movement.  It  is  no  dry  recital,  for  it  concerns  events 
and  character. 

From  1795  to  the  opening  of  1797  the  league  against 
Napoleon,  as  thrones  and  principalities  one  by  one  tot- 
tered before  him,  was  faced  by  rising  republics  and 
defecting  allies.  In  vain  were  Wurmser  and  the 
Neapolitan  troops  to  rajly  the  Romagna.  In  vain  did 
Nelson  recount  to  the  Hamiltons  Hood's  and  Hotham's 
successes  along  the  Jtaliajn  coast.  Acton's  own  letters 
of  about  this  period  complain  of  the  Austrian  delays 
and  suspicions.  Prussia  estranged  herself  from  the 
banded  powers.  England  herself  was,  for  a  moment, 
ready  to  throw  up  the  sponge.  In  1795,  so  great  was 
the  popular  fear  of  conflict,  that  prints  in  every  Lon- 
don shop  window  represented  the  blessings  of  peace 
and  the  horrors  of  war.  Even  in  the  October  of  1796 
Nelson  told  the  Hamiltons,  with  a  wrathful  sigh,  "  We 
have  a  narrow-minded  party  to  work  against,  but  I  feel 
above  it."  -  And  writing  from  Bastia  in  December, 
1796,  he  was  again  indignant  at  the  orders  for  the 
evacuation  of  the  Mediterranean,  which  plunged  the 
Queen  in  despair.  "  Till  this  time,"  commented  the 
true  patriot,  "  it  has  been  usual  for  the  allies  of  Eng- 
land to  fall  from  her,  but  till  now  she  never  was 
known  to  desert  her  friends  whilst  she  had  the  power 
of  supporting  them." 

The  home  explosion  had  been  arrested;  Neapolitan 
discontent  had  been  appeased;  but  the  frauds  of  the 
corn-contractor,  Mackinnon,  added  knavery  to  increas- 
ing fiscal  embarrassments.  And  Naples  was  soon  to 
become  involved  in  a  mesh  of  degrading  treaties.  The 
Peace  of  Brescia,  enforcing  her  neutrality  and  mulcting 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  173 

her  of  eight  million  francs,  sounded  the  first  note  of 
Austrian  retreat.  It  culminated  by  1797  in  the  shame- 
ful treaties  of  Campoformio  and  Tolentino,  which 
eventually  bound  Austria  to  cry  off.  By  the  close  of 
1796  the  distraught  Queen  raved  over  a  separate  and 
partly  secret  compact  exacted  by  France — the  most 
galling  condition  of  which  excluded  more  than  four 
vessels  of  the  allies  at  one  time  from  any  Neapolitan 
or  Sicilian  port — a  proviso  critical  in  1798.  By  1797 
Naples  was  forced  to  acknowledge  the  French  Cisalpine 
Republic,  and  France  had  gained  the  natural  frontiers 
of  the  Alps  and  the  Rhine.  Buonaparte  returned  to 
Paris  covered  with  glory.  In  a  single  campaign  he 
had  defeated  five  armies,  and  won  eighteen  pitched  bat- 
tles and  sixty-seven  smaller  combats.  He  had  made 
one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  prisoners.  He  had 
freed  eighteen  states.  He  had  rifled  Italy  of  her 
statues,  pictures,  and  manuscripts.  For  his  adopted 
country's  arsenals  he  had  pillaged  eleven  hundred  and 
eighty  pieces  of  artillery,  and  fifty-one  muniments  for 
her  harbours;  while  no  less  than  two  hundred  million 
francs  were  secured  for  her  treasuries. 

But  a  worse  defection  than  Prussia's  or  Austria's 
was  that  of  Spain,  which  fell  like  a  bomb  on  the  coali- 
tion against  France,  and  which,  as  Emma  alleged,  first 
brought  her  on  the  political  stage  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  English  Ministry. 

Her  claim,  and  Nelson's  for  her,  differing  in  dates, 
since  there  were  several  transactions,  was  that  her 
friendship  with  the  Queen  obtained  the  loan  of  a  secret 
document  addressed  by  the  Spanish  monarch  to  the 
King  of  Naples,  and  forewarning  him  of  his  intention 
to  ally  himself  with  France,  a  copy  of  which  she  got 
forwarded  to  London. 

This  service  has  been  more  questioned  by  Professor 
Laughton  than  by  Mr.  Jeaffreson,  who,  however, 


174  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

doubts  some  particulars  in  her  account  of  this  obscure 
matter,  and  her  direct  initiative  in  it.  Whatever  its 
subsequent  embroidery,  Emma's  contention,  certified  by 
Nelson,  nor  ever  denied  by  the  truthful  Hamilton,  is 
favoured  by  its  likelihood.  At  the  very  outset,  any 
subsidiary  objection  raised  as  to  the  improbability  that 
an  important  despatch  in  cipher  would  have  been  en- 
trusted to  her  keeping,  falls  at  once  to  the  ground,  since 
there  exists  such  a  document  in  her  own  handwriting 
among  the  Morrison  autographs;  1  while  in  the  Queen's 
correspondence  occurs  more  than  one  mention  of  a 
cipher  transmitted  to  her.  But,  indeed,  neither  in  her 
memorial  of  1813  to  the  Prince  of  Wales,  nor  in  that 
other  to  the  King,  nor  in  Nelson's  last  codicil,  is  a 
"  ciphered  letter "  mentioned.  The  first  document 
styles  it  only  a  "  private  letter."  The  last  two  agree 
in  calling  it  the  King  of  Spain's  letter  "  expressive  of  " 
or  "  acquainting  him  with  "  his  "  intention  of  declar- 
ing war  aga.inst  England."  Such  pains  perhaps  need 
hardly  have  been  bestowed  to  identify  the  document 
meant,  with  the  celebrated  cipher  of  Galatone,  which 
the  Queen  handed  to  Emma  in  the  spring  of  1795. 
Some  circumstantial  evidence  may  favour  the  view 
that  the  substance  of  her  claim  relates  to  information 
sent  home  in  autumn  1796,  the  year  specified  by  Nel- 
son's last  codicil,  by  his  conversation  at  Dresden  in 
1800,  and  on  many  other  occasions. 

Roughly  speaking,  the  facts  are  these. 

From  the  opening  of  the  year  1795  to  the  autumn  of 
1796  the  Neapolitan  Ambassador  at  Madrid  (in  1795 
"  Galatone,"  Prince  Belmonte)  was  in  constant  com- 
munication, both  open  and  secret,  with  the  King, 
Queen,  and  Gallo,  then  foreign  minister;  and  in  such 

1  Morrison  MS.  259.  Transcript  (in  Italian)  in  Lady  Hamil- 
ton's handwriting  of  a  letter  (in  cipher)  to  the  Foreign  Minister 
of  Naples.  Dated  Aranjuez,  March  31,  1796. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  175 

cases  official  letters,  which  are  naturally  guarded, 
should  be  carefully  distinguished  from  private  in- 
formation surreptitiously  conveyed.  From  the  mo- 
ment that  the  French  Directory  replaced  the  Reign  of 
Terror  in  Thermidor,  1794,  and  represented  itself  un- 
der the  dazzling  triumphs  of  Napoleon  as  a  stable,  if 
epicicr,  Government,  Spain  had  been  steadily  smooth- 
ing the  way  for  wriggling  out  of  the  Anti-Gallic  Coali- 
tion, the  more  so  as  she  longed  to  try  conclusions  with 
Great  Britain  in  partnership  with  France,  whom  she 
had  hitherto  been  bound  to  attack.  For  this  purpose — • 
as  Acton's  manuscript  letters  attest — she  sought  to 
bully  Naples,  first  out  of  the  Anti-Gallic  league,  and 
subsequently,  in  1797,  out  of  enforced  neutrality.  She 
still  considered  her  navy  powerful,  although  through- 
out 1795  Nelson  derided  it  as  worse  than  useless.  Her 
Florentine  envoy  wrote  insolently  in  the  autumn  of 
1795  that  it  was  of  no  consequence  that  the  English 
flag  was  flaunted  in  Mediterranean  waters;  the  real 
Spanish  objective  ought  to  be  Cuba,  Porto  Rico,  St. 
Domingo.  Tradition,  national  pride,  and  inclination 
all  united  in  her  effort  gradually  and  insidiously  to  pre- 
pare a  breach  with  the  allied  powers  and  a  rapproche- 
ment with  France. 

During  these  long  negotiations  both  Acton  and  Ham- 
ilton were  kept  in  designed  ignorance  by  the  King,  who, 
under  his  inherited  bias  for  Spanish  influence,  rejoiced 
to  think  that  he  was  now  at  last  his  own  minister,  out- 
witting and  emancipated  from  his  thwarted  Queen. 
Maria  Carolina,  however,  had  provided  her  own  chan- 
nels of  information  also.  All  that  she  could  ferret  out 
was  carefully  communicated  to  Lady  Hamilton,  and 
forwarded,  under  strict  pledges  not  to  compromise  by 
naming  her,  to  Lord  Grenville  in  London. 

There  are  two  distinct  sets  of  the  correspondence  be- 
tween Hamilton  and  Acton  and  Acton  and  Hamilton — • 


176  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

that  of  spring  and  early  summer,  1795,  relative  to  the 
Spanish  peace  with  France  achieved  in  July,  the  project 
for  which,  however,  had  leaked  out  long  before;  and 
that  of  late  summer  and  autumn,  1796,  regarding 
Spain's  much  more  secret  and  momentous  decision  to 
strike  a  definite  alliance,  offensive  as  well  as  defensive, 
with  the  enemy  of  Europe. 

It  was  in  connection  with  the  latter  that  Nelson's  last 
codicil  claimed  Emma's  assistance  in  divulging  it  to 
the  ministers,  while  he  regretted  the  opportunities 
missed  by  their  failure  to  improve  the  occasion.  Lady 
Hamilton's  last  memorial  assigns  no  specific  date, 
though  her  brief  narrative  there  confuses  (as  usual) 
the  peace  and  the  alliance  together.  The  evidence 
points  to  a  possibility  of  her  having  been  twice  in- 
strumental in  procuring  documents  weighty  for  both 
these  emergencies;  but  her  main  exertion,  as  Nelson 
averred,  was  bound  up  with  the  last.  Professor 
Laughton's  acumen  bears  most  strongly  upon  the  let- 
ters of  1795,  though  at  the  same  time  he  supplies  and 
discusses  the  data  for  1796.  To  his  article  the  stu- 
dent is  referred.  Both  he  and  Mr.  Jeaffreson  fasten 
upon  her  statement  in  the  "  Prince  Regent  "  memorial 
alone,1  and  have  not  considered  her  undecorated  and 

1  These  are  its  words : — "  By  unceasing  application  of  that 
influence  " — i.  e.  with  the  Queen — "  and  no  less  watchfulness  to 
turn  it  to  my  country's  good,  it  happened  that  I  discovered  a 
courier  had  brought  the  King  of  Naples  a  private  letter  from 
the  King  of  Spain.  I  prevailed  on  the  Queen  to  take  it  from 
his  pocket  unseen.  We  found  it  to  contain  the  King  of  Spain's 
intention  to  withdraw  from  the  Coalition,  and  join  the  French 
against  England.  My  husband  at  that  time  lay  dangerously  ill. 
I  prevailed  on  the  Queen  to  allow  my  taking  a  copy,  with  which 
I  immediately  despatched  a  messenger  to  Lord  Grenville,  taking 
all  the  necessary  precautions ;  for  his  safe  arrival  then  became 
very  difficult,  and  altogether  cost  me  about  £400  paid  out  of  my 
privy  purse." — Cf.  Morrison  MS.  1046,  where  the  date  con- 
jectured "March,  1813  "  tallies  with  her  letter  in  the  Rose  diaries 
inclosing  it. 

Her    memorial   to    the   King   contains   a   simpler   statement 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  177 

simple  account  tallying  with  Nelson's  in  her  memorial 
to  the  King.  I  beg  the  reader's  patient  attention  to 
the  wording  of  both  of  these,  below  cited. 

It  is  clear  from  the  first  that  Emma  in  treating  of 
two  years  mixes  up  the  documents  which  she  admit- 
tedly obtained  from  the  Queen  and  delivered  to  Ham- 
ilton for  transmission  both  in  April  and  June,  1795, 
with  one  of  several  that  she  obtained  in  1796.  No 
single  "  letter  "  could  have  comprised  both  the  rupture 
with  the  alliance  and  the  compact  with  France,  be- 
longing respectively  to  two  successive  years.  On  April 
28,  1795,  the  Queen  sent  her  a  ciphered  letter  from 
Galatone,  demanding  its  return  "  before  midnight." 
Next  day  she  sent  her  "  the  promised  cipher,"  "  too 
glad  in  being  able  to  render  a  service."  Emma  re- 
corded on  her  copy  of  the  first  that  her  husband  for- 
warded it  with  the  cipher  to  England. 

It  is  open,  however,  to  argument  that  Emma's  chief 
aid  in  unravelling  a  long  and  tangled  skein  of  matur- 
ing crisis  may  have  been  rendered  about  September, 
1796.  Its  history  will  resume  our  thread;  and,  since 
the  next  chapter's  evidence  is  to  support  not  only  her 
crowning  service  with  regard  to  the  Mediterranean 

"That  it  was  the  good  fortune  of  your  Majesty's  memorialist  to 
acquire  the  confidential  friendship  of  that  great  and  august 
Princess,  the  Queen  of  Naples,  your  Majesty's  most  faithful  and 
ardently  attached  Ally,  at  a  period  of  peculiar  peril,  and  when 
her  august  Consort  .  .  .  was  unhappily  constrained  to  profess 
a  neutrality,  but  little  in  accordance  with  the  feelings  of  his 
own  excellent  heart.  By  which  means  your  Majesty's  memorial- 
ist, among  many  inferior  services,  had  an  opportunity  of  ob- 
taining, and  actually  did  obtain,  the  King  of  Spain's  letter  to  the 
King  of  Naples  expressive  of  his  intention  to  declare  war  against 
England.  This  important  document,  your  Majesty's  memorialist 
delivered  to  her  husband,  Sir  William  Hamilton,  who  im- 
mediately transmitted  it  to  your  Majesty's  Ministers."  This  as- 
sertion tallies  with  Nelson's.  There  is  no  proof  of  the  date  of 
this  paper,  which  in  the  Morrison  MS.  (1045)  is  guessed  to  be 
identical  with  that  of  the  "  Prince  Regent "  memorial  above 
transcribed. 


178  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

fleet,  but  the  substantial  accuracy  of  her  two  statements 
of  it,  it  is  worth  while  in  this  matter  also  to  inquire 
somewhat  closely  whether  Emma  was  a  liar,  and  Nel- 
son a  dupe. 

Two  Acton  manuscripts  towards  the  end  of  Augast, 
1796,  cast  a  sidelight  on  the  numerous  letters  of  that 
year  from  the  Spanish  court,  culminating  in  some  kind 
of  announcement  by  the  Spanish  King  to  his  brother 
of  Naples  of  his  final  decision  to  join  the  French. 

Acton  vied  amicably  with  Hamilton  in  obtaining 
the  first  advices  for  transmission  to  London;  and 
indeed  to  Acton's  penchant  (like  our  own  Harley's  un- 
der Queen  Anne)  for  engrossing  business  and  favour 
Nelson  afterwards  referred  in  a  letter  to  Lady  Ham- 
ilton, where  he  declares  that  he  will  no  longer  "  get 
everything  done  "  through  Acton,  as  was  his  "  old 
way."  Both  Acton  and  Wyndham,  England's  envoy 
at  Leghorn,  were  already  aware  of  Spain's  tentatives 
with  France ;  but  neither  they  nor  the  English  Ambas- 
sador at  Madrid  could  have  discovered  till  later  the 
precise  terms  of  a  coming  alliance,  vital  to  Europe.  It 
would  press  the  more  on  Naples,  in  view  of  that  un- 
dignified and  stringent  accommodation  with  the  French 
Directory,  into  which  the  Franco-Hispanian  con- 
spiracy, after  a  brief  armistice,  was  fast  driving  her 
reluctant  councils.  For  months  Prince  Belmonte 
(transferred  from  Madrid  to  Paris)  had  been  dangling 
his  heels  as  negotiator  in  the  French  capital,  subjected 
to  insolent  demands  and  mortifying  delays  and 
chicanes.  From  the  spring  of  1796  onwards  a  series 
of  threatening  letters  had  been  received  by  Ferdinand 
from  Charles;  and  all  the  time  the  pro-Spanish  party, 
designing  a  dethronement  of  the  Neapolitan  Bour- 
bons, kept  even  pace  with  Maria  Carolina's  hatred  of 
a  sister-in-law  caballing  for  her  son.  Ferdinand  him- 
self still  clung  to  the  Spanish  raft;  Charles  of  Spain 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  179 

was  his  brother,  and  blood  is  thicker  than  water. 
While  England  grew  more  and  more  faint-hearted,  and 
Grenville  forwarded  despatch  after  despatch  advising 
Naples  to  give  up  the  game  and  make  the  best  terms 
available  with  the  Directory;  while  Napoleon's  vic- 
tories swelled  the  republicanisation  of  Italy,  the  Span- 
ish plot  also  for  sapping  Great  Britain's  Mediterranean 
power,  and  overthrowing  the  dynasty  of  the  Two 
Sicilies,  increased  in  strength.  Yet  the  King  of  Na- 
ples still  temporised.  For  a  space  even  Acton  veered ; 
he  listened  to  Gallo  and  the  King,  the  more  readily  be- 
cause his  own  post  was  endangered  in  1795,  when  there 
had  been  actual  rumours  of  his  replacement  by  Gallo. 
In  1796  he  saw  no  way  out  but  the  sorry  compromise 
with  France,  which  he  half  desired,  and  the  enforced 
neutrality  which  disgusted  Naples  in  December.  Milan 
had  fallen.  Piedmont  had  been  Buonaparte's  latest 
democratic  experiment.  The  Austrians,  led  by  Wurm- 
ser,  were  failing  in  combat,  as  their  court  by  the 
first  month  of  the  next  year  was  to  fail  in  faith. 
Naples  was  fast  being  isolated  both  from  Italy  and 
Britain ;  small  wonder  then  that  through  Acton's  earlier 
letters  of  1796  there  peers  a  sour  smile  of  cynical 
desperation.  But  directly  he  realised  the  full  force  of 
the  Franco-Hispanian  complot,  and  the  stress  of  re- 
verses to  the  allied  arms,  he  changed  his  ply.  ^  He 
avowed  himself  ready  "  to  break  the  peace  " ;  he  re- 
joined and  rejoiced  the  Queen;  he  again  looked  to 
England.  As  Grenville  waxed  colder,  the  more 
warmly  did  Acton  compete  with  Hamilton  in  egging 
on  the  British  Government  by  disclosing  the  hard  facts 
detected.  Hamilton,  however,  forestalled  him.  He, 
Emma,  and  the  Queen  had  throughout  been  in  frequent 
confabulation,  while  the  Hamiltons  were  also  in  close 
correspondence  with  Nelson.  But  it  was  Emma,  not 
her  husband,  that  was  daily  closeted  with  Carolina, 


i So  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

whose  letters  to  the  ambassadress  prove  how  well  she 
was  informed  of  Spain's  machinations.  So  early  as 
June,  1793,  we  have  seen  Emma  already  politicising. 
In  April,  1795,  she  reports  once  more  to  Greville: 
"  Against  my  will,  owing  to  my  situation  here,  I  am 
got  into  politics,  and  I  wish  to  have  news  for  my  dear, 
much  loved  Queen  whom  I  adore."  She  had  already 
transcribed  a  ciphered  communication  from  Spain  as  to 
King  Charles's  probable  defection  from  the  alliance. 
She  now  definitely  advances  towards  the  political  foot- 
lights. 

The  preceding  year  had  settled  the  habit  by  which 
the  Queen  conveyed  secret  documents  to  the  friend 
who  as  regularly  copied  or  translated  them  for  her  hus- 
band.1 So  far  the  chief  of  these  had  been  the  "  Chiffre 
de  Galatone  "  transmitted  to  England  at  the  close  of 
April,  I795-2  All  of  them,  however,  principally  related 
to  the  Spanish  peace  with  France  then  brewing  in 
Madrid,  of  which  the  British  Government  had  gained 
other  advices  from  their  representative  at  the  Spanish 
court.  That  even  this,  however,  was  not  quite  a 

1  On  April  21,  1/95,  fc>r  example,  the  Queen  sends  three  papers 
"  confidentially,"  "  which  may  be  useful  to  your  husband."     Cf. 
Professor  Laughton's  article  in  Colburn's  United  Service  Maga- 
zine, April,  1889,  and  for  the  famous  letter  of  April  28,  cf.  also 
Eg.  MS.  1615,  f.  22,  containing  another  example.     It  is  needless 
to  multiply  instances.     One  citation  only  will  illustrate  Emma's 
initiative.     In   Hamilton's   despatch   of   April   30,    1795,   he   says, 
"  However,   Lady   Hamilton   having  had   the  honour  of   seeing 
the  Queen  yesterday  morning,  H.M.  was  pleased  to  promise  me 
one,  etc."     In  another  of  the  following  year  he  speaks  of  docu- 
ments being  "  communicated  "  to  him  "  as  usual." 

2  Cf.  Emma's  copy  of  the  Queen's  note  forwarding  it  to  her, 
Eg.  MS.   1615,  f.  22,  and  Emma's  reference  to  the  courier  and 
her  having  "got  into  politicks,"   April   19.     Morrison   MS.  263. 
On  June  9  she  copied  another  despatch  from  presumably  Gala- 
tone  (Prince  Belmonte),  ibid.  265.     Later  in  the  year  the  Queen 
communicated   information   about   Spain  and.   in   another  letter, 
rumours  about  Hood  having  got  out  of  Toulon,  Eg.  MS.  1617, 
ff.  3,  4- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  181 

secret  de  Polichinelle,  is  likely  from  the  scarcity  of 
references  to  it  in  the  Acton  correspondence  with  Ham- 
ilton about  this  time.  Nor  is  it  any  answer  to  Emma's 
activities,  even  in  this  and  less  material  years,  that 
she  voiced  the  Queen's  urgent  interest,  because  it  is 
abundantly  manifest  that  the  Queen,  in  her  need,  did 
for  Emma  what  she  would  never  have  done  for  Ham- 
ilton apart,  while  in  return  Emma  doubtless  com- 
municated also  Nelson's  Mediterranean  information 
to  Maria  Carolina.  She  had  suddenly  become  a  safe 
and  trusted  go-between,  and  none  other  at  this  junc- 
ture could  have  performed  her  office.  The  supine  Sir 
William  had  at  last  been  pricked  into  action.  He  had 
now  every  incentive  to  earn  the  King  of  England's 
gratitude.  In  a  private  missive  to  Lord  Grenville  of 
April  30,  1795,  alluding  to  the  communication  of  this 
very  "  cipher  of  Galatone,"  he  himself  asserts,  "  Your 
Lordship  will  have  seen  by  my  despatch  of  2ist  April 
the  unbounded  confidence  which  the  Queen  of  Naples 
has  placed  in  me  and  my  wife."  Emma  could  now 
advantage  not  only  herself  and  her  country,  but  her 
royal  friend  and  her  own  husband — Tria  juncta  in 
uno. 

But  the  position  in  the  later  summer  of  1796  was 
far  more  serious  both  for  Naples  and  England  than 
it  had  ever  been  before.  Acton  had  been  dallying. 
During  the  interval  Ferdinand  seems  to  have  been 
pelted  with  letters  from  Charles,  menacing,  cajoling, 
persuading  him.  Already  in  August  Hamilton  had 
communicated  secrets  respecting  the  movements  of  the 
French  and  Spanish  squadrons.  Every  one  knew  that 
Spanish  retirement  from  the  European  Coalition  was 
soon  to  be  succeeded  by  some  sort  of  league;  but  no- 
body, either  at  Naples  or  in  England,  could  ascertain 
its  exact  conditions  revealed  to  Ferdinand  alone.  If 
it  was  to  be  (as  it  was)  an  alliance  of  offence,  the  is- 


182  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

sues  must  prove  momentous  for  Great  Britain.  All 
was  kept  a  profound  secret. 

About  September,  1796,  apparently,  Charles  the 
Fourth's  final  letter  reached  the  hands  of  his  Neapol- 
itan brother.  But  his  coming  alliance  with  France 
had  already  been  notified  by  Acton  to  Hamilton.  The 
murder  was  out.  The  compact  between  the  two  courts 
was  fixed  as  one  of  war  to  the  knife  against  the  allied 
powers,  among  whom  England  was  wavering  and 
Austria  on  the  verge  of  concluding  a  scandalous  peace. 
Ferdinand,  who  alone  knew  what  was  impending,  must 
have  chuckled  as  he  thought  how  he  had  worsted  his 
masterful  spouse.  If  Emma  could  only  clear  up  the 
mystery  and  the  uncertainty,  England  might  be  fore- 
armed against  the  veiled  sequel  of  that  long  train  of 
hidden  pourparlers  which  she  had  been  able  to  dis- 
cover and  announce  during  the  previous  year;  and  in 
such  a  case  she  counted  with  assurance  on  her  coun- 
try's gratitude  towards  her  and  her  husband. 

How  the  Queen  or  Emma,  or  both,  obtained  the  loan 
of  this  document,  whether  out  of  the  King's  pocket,  as 
Emma  avers  in  her  Prince  Regent's  memorial,  and 
Pettigrew,  with  embellishments,  in  his  Life  of  Nelson; 
or  whether,  according  to  the  posthumous  Memoirs  of 
Lady  Hamilton,  through  a  bribed  page,  does  not  con- 
cern us.  Such  strokes  of  the  theatre  are,  at  any  rate, 
quite  consonant  with  the  atmosphere  of  the  court. 
The  sole  question  is:  Did  she  manage  to  receive  and 
transmit  it? 

The  letter  to  which  I  apply  her  pretensions  was  in 
Spanish — a  "  private  letter  "  or  a  "  letter,"  as  Emma 
and  Nelson  respectively  describe  it,  and  not  a  "  letter 
in  cipher  "  like  the  one  received  from  Galatone  in  the 
year  preceding.  The  problem's  intricacy  defies  a  real 
solution.  In  the  main,  habit  and  motive  only  can  be 
urged  for  Emma's  use  of  the  Queen's  friendship  in 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  183 

this  instance  also.  What  she  had  done  in  the  one  year, 
she  may  well  have  done  in  the  other.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  is  no  definite  document  that  she  can  be 
proved  to  have  procured. 

Is  there  any  distinct  circumstance  in  her  favour  to 
counterweigh  the  hypotheses  against  her?  One  such 
exists  of  some  weight.  It  relates  to  her  statement  that 
a  messenger  of  her  own  was  despatched  with  the  docu- 
ment to  London. 

Sir  William  Hamilton  gave  wind  of  the  critical  news 
in  a  "  secret  "  despatch  to  Lord  Grenville.  It  is  dated 
September  21,  1796;  and  the  bearer  of  it  seems  to  have 
started  on  the  23rd.  It  should  be  observed  that  this 
official  missive  appears  exceptional  in  only  trans- 
mitting the  purport  of  the  letter,  and  not,  as  repeatedly 
before  and  afterwards,  either  copies  of  hazardous 
documents,  or,  in  earlier  cases,  the  originals  them- 
selves. 

On  this  very  September  2ist  the  Queen  of  Naples 
wrote  to  thank  Emma  for  putting  at  her  service  the 
unexpected  medium  of  "  the  poor  Count  of  Munster's 
courier,"  available  through  his  employer's  misfortune. 
She  says  that  she  and  the  General  will  profit  by  the 
opportunity,  and  that  Emma  shall  receive  "  our 
packet"  the  day  after  to-morrow  (mid-day,  Friday). 
Acton,  once  more  addressing  Hamilton  on  September 
22,  and  before  this  special  courier  had  started,  begged 
him  to  include  both  his  and  the  Queen's  despatches 
to  Circello,  Ambassador  at  St.  James's,  "  by  the  courier 
which  goes  to-morrow  for  London." 

On  this  identical  September  21,  1796,  once  again 
Lady  Hamilton  herself  sat  down  for  a  hurried  chat 
with  Greville.  "  We  have  not  time,"  she  says,  "  to 
write  to  you,  as  we  have  been  3  days  and  nights  writing 
to  send  by  this  courrier  letters  of  consequence  for  our 
Government.  They  ought  to  be  grate  full  to  Sir  Will- 


184  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

iam  and  myself  in  particular,  as  my  situation  in  this 
Court  is  very  extraordinary,  and  what  no  person  [h]as 
yet  arrived  at."  She  adds,  "  He  is  our  Courrier." 

The  coincidence  of  these  combined  statements  of  two 
successive  days  suggests  the  "  poor  Count  of  Mun- 
ster's  "  courier  as  the  possible  bearer  both  of  official 
despatches  and  of  any  copy  of  the  King  of  Spain's  most 
crucial  declaration,  that  Emma  may  have  made. 

It  is  only  fair  to  state  that  another  contingency  pre- 
sents itself.  Emma's  service  may  really  have  amounted 
to  little  more  than  having  been  the  means  of  procur- 
ing a  prompt  courier  for  this  urgent  despatch.  If, 
however,  she  also  got  the  original  document,  or  even 
a  copy,  forwarded,  Hamilton's  omission  to  include  it 
in  his  despatch  is  explained.  In  any  case  it  is  material. 
He  may  have  feared  to  do  so,  or  she  may  not  have 
been  allowed  to  retain  it  long  enough,  in  which  case 
Emma  could  truthfully  describe  his  brief  summary  of 
its  pith  as  the  King  of  Spain's  letter. 

Professor  Laughton  has  urged  with  force'  that  no 
Treasury  minute  relating  to  Emma's  service  is  to  be 
found.  But  must  it  be  assumed  that  the  bare  absence 
of  such  record  is  fatal  to  her  case?  It  might  further 
be  urged  that  no  copy  of  this  particular  King  of  Spain's 
letter  exists  in  our  archives.  But  has  every  important 
document  mentioned  in  the  despatches  of  this  period 
invariably  come  to  light? 

That  the  Spanish  letter  may  have  arrived  about  a 
month  earlier  than  the  date  of  the  despatch,  and  that 
Acton  also  may  have  gleaned  its  contents,  appears  from 
the  close  similarity  between  Acton's  two  letters  to 
Hamilton  of  August  18  and  21,  and  the  spirit  of  Ham- 
ilton's short  summary  in  his  communication  of  Sep- 
tember 21  to  Lord  Grenville.  Hamilton  wrote  that  the 
King  of  Naples  was  "  bitterly  reproached  for  acting 
constantly  in  opposition  to  his  brother's  advice,"  and 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  185 

was  warned  that  Charles  would  "  soon  be  obliged  to 
take  another  course  with  him."  Acton  wrote  of  the 
King's  "  odd  and  open  threatenings  to  his  brother," 
and  in  his  first  letter  that  Spain  had  "  certainly  signed  a 
treaty  of  alliance  with  the  French,"  and  was  to  "  join 
with  them  even  against  us.  We  are  assured  of  this 
by  threatenings  even  not  equivocal." 

Mr.  Jeaffreson  has  further  dwelt  on  the  unlikelihood 
of  such  a  sum  as  Emma  names  being  spent  on  retain- 
ing the  messenger  out  of  her  private  purse,  when  her 
allowance  was  limited  to  £200  a  year.  But  this  al- 
lowance seems  to  have  been  only  nominal.  From  the 
Morrison  Collection  it  would  appear  that  for  some  time 
she  had  been  authorised  by  her  husband  to  overdraw 
her  account  in  view  of  increasing  requirements.  Then 
there  are  the  minutiae  about  their  health  in  1795  and 
1796  to  show  that  the  former  year  better  fits  her  claim. 
These  would  seem  indecisive,  considering  his  constant 
ailments.  But  a  strange  confirmation  of  her  story  re- 
mains in  the  fact  of  a  locket  given  by  Nelson  to  Emma 
in  1796,  and  recording  the  date.  Such  a  present  from 
one  who  had  never  seen  her  since  1793  may  well  be- 
token a  real  service.  Everything,  it  must  be  conceded, 
remains  inconclusive.  All  rests  on  circumstantial  evi- 
dence merely,  but  apart  from  the  problems  of  1796,  it 
will  be  owned  that  she  succeeded  in  serving  England 
during  1795. 

During  the  following  month  of  October,  Emma  is 
still  to  be  found  transcribing  documents  and  endorsing 
effusive  gratitude  on  one  of  the  Queen's  letters.  She 
had  exerted  herself,  even  if  she  exaggerates  her  exer- 
tions. It  is  perfectly  possible,  of  course,  that  her 
memory,  in  confusing  the  events  of  these  two  years, 
may  have  also  confused  the  date  of  her  husband's  ill- 
ness. But  that  her  story,  stripped  of  accidentals,  is  a 
myth,  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  believe.  Even  Lord 


186  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Grenville,  thirteen  years  later,  did  not  apparently 
specify  fabrication  as  his  reason  for  rejecting  her 
claims.  That  during  her  future  she  proved  often  and 
otherwise  blameworthy,  that  her  distant  past  had  been 
soiled,  are  scarcely  reasons  for  discrediting  the  sub- 
stance of  her  story,  though  her  efforts  passed  unheeded 
by  the  Government ;  nor  should  Greville's  repeated  ac- 
knowledgments of  her  natural  candour  be  forgotten. 
To  every  motive  for  political  exertion  had  now  been 
added  immense  opportunity.  There  is  ample  reason 
why  she  should  have  used  it  for  her  country's  ad- 
vantage. She  was  no  dabbler.  She  had  wished  to 
play  a  big  part,  and  she  was  playing  it.  She  had  every 
qualification  for  acquitting  herself  well  in  the  arena 
where  she  longed  to  shine,  and  promptitude  alone  could 
ensure  success. 

Gloom  deepened  with  the  opening  of  the  year  1797, 
but  it  riveted  the  Neapolitan  House  faster  to  England. 
The  many  French  immigrants  exulted.  The  pro-Span- 
ish party  and  all  the  Anglophobes  became  confident. 
Austria  had  ignobly  desisted,  and  her  ministers  were 
rewarded  by  diamonds  from  the  Pope.  Great  Britain 
— hesitating  though  she  seemed — remained  the  sole 
champion  against  Buonaparte.  Lord  St.  Vincent's 
name  and  Nelson's  rang  throughout  Europe  on  the 
"  glorious  Valentine's  day,"  and  Emma  infused  fresh 
hope  in  the  downcast  Queen.  She  delighted  to  vaunt 
England's  sinew  and  backbone.  She  prevented  Ham- 
ilton from  relaxing  his  efforts,  and  kept  him  at  his 
post  of  honour.  She  was  already  ambitious  for  Nel- 
son. Maria  Carolina  at  last  divined  that  Buonaparte's 
objective  was  the  Mediterranean.  But  Nelson  had  di- 
vined the  aims  of  France  earlier,  when  he  wrote  in  Oc- 
tober, 1796,  "We  are  all  preparing  to  leave  the 
Mediterranean,  a  measure  which  I  cannot  approve. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  187 

They  at  home  do  not  know  what  this  fleet  is  capable 
of  performing;  anything  and  everything."  But 
Downing  Street,  in  the  person  of  the  narrow-sighted 
Lord  Grenville,  still  closed  its  eyes,  shut  its  ears, 
and  hardened  its  heart.  At  Rome  the  French  repub- 
licans organised  an  uprising,  and  were  driven  for  shel- 
ter into  Joseph  Buonaparte's  Palazzo  Corsini.  He 
himself  was  threatened,  and  Duphot  was  killed,  by  the 
Papal  guard.  Eugene  Beauharnais  made  a  sortie  of 
vengeance.  Napoleon  utilised  the  manoeuvre  to 
despatch  General  Berthier  against  the  Pope's  domin- 
ions. By  the  February  of  the  ensuing  year  the  Castle 
of  St.  Angelo  was  taken.  On  Ascension  Day  the  Pope 
himself,  in  the  Forum,  heard  the  shouts  of  "  Viva  la 
Republica ;  abasso  il  Papa !  "  He  did  what  other  weak 
pontiffs  have  done  before  and  since.  He  protested  his 
"  divine  right,"  took  his  stand  on  it — and  fled.  Ousted 
from  Sienna  by  earthquake,  he  retired  to  the  Florentine 
Certosa,  where  his  rooms  fronting  that  beautiful  pros- 
pect may  still  be  viewed.  Hounded  out  once  more,  he 
was  harried  from  pillar  to  post — from  Tortona  to 
Turin,  from  Briangon  to  Valence — in  the  citadel  of 
which,  old  and  distressed,  he  breathed  his  last. 

At  home  Maria  Carolina  now  reversed  her  policy  of 
the  knout.  Vanni,  the  brutal  Inquisitor  of  State,  was 
deposed  and  banished,  the  diplomatic  Castelcicala  was 
given  a  free  hand.  All  the  captives  were  released. 
The  Lazzaroni  cheered  till  they  were  hoarse  over  the 
magnanimity  of  their  rulers. 

And  Acton,  relieved  from  the  burdens  of  bureaucracy, 
at  last  pressed  Great  Britain  for  a  Mediterranean 
squadron.  He  and  the  Queen  had  both  determined 
that  their  forced  neutrality  should  be  of  short  duration. 

If  we  would  appreciate  Emma's  influence  for  Eng- 
land at  Naples,  the  tone  of  his  correspondence  at  this 
date  should  be  compared  with  his  indifference  during 


1 88  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

the  earlier  portion  of  the  preceding  year.  The 
Mediterranean  expedition  which  Nelson  was  to  lead  to 
such  decisive  triumph  was  far  more  the  fruit  of  Neapol- 
itan importunities  than  of  English  foresight. 

Buonaparte  had  boasted  that  he  would  republicanise 
the  Two  Sicilies  also.  No  sooner  was  Acton  apprised 
of  the  fact  than  he  immediately  invited  Sir  Gilbert  El- 
liot, who  happened  to  be  visiting  Naples,  to  meet  him 
and  the  Hamiltons.  He  again  murmured  against  Lord 
Grenville's  finesse.  He  assured  Sir  Gilbert  that  his 
country  had  strained  every  sinew  "  to  move  and  en- 
gage seventeen  million  Italians  to  defend  themselves, 
their  property,  and  their  honour  " ;  all  had  been  vain 
for  lack  of  extraneous  assistance;  even  their  fleet  had 
laboured  to  no  purpose;  in  his  quaint  English,  their 
"  head-shiprfian  had  lost  his  head,  if  ever  he  had  any." 
The  case  was  now  desperate.  All  hinged  on  a  suffi- 
cient Mediterranean  squadron.  "  Any  English  man- 
of-war,  to  the  number  of  four  at  a  time,"  could  still  be 
provisioned  in  Sicilian  or  Neapolitan  ports.  Their 
compelled  compact  with  France  allowed  no  more.  And 
at  a  moment  when  the  French  were  disquieting  Naples 
by  insurgent  fugitives  from  the  Romagna  and  else- 
where, Napoleon's  smooth  speeches  were,  said  Acton, 
mere  dissimulation.  A  "  change  of  masters  "  might 
soon  ensue.  By  the  April  of  1798  Acton  was  still 
more  explicit  in  his  correspondence  with  Hamilton.  A 
fresh  incursion  was  now  definitely  menaced.  Naples 
was  being  blackmailed.  The  Parisian  Directors  of- 
fered her  immunity,  but  only  if  she  would  pay  them 
an  exorbitant  sum;  otherwise* she  must  be  absorbed  in 
the  constellation  of  republics,  while  her  monarch  must 
join  the  debris  of  falling  stars.  Viennese  support  was 
little  more  than  a  forlorn  hope  for  ravaged  Italy.  In 
the  King's  name  he  implored  Hamilton  to  forward  an 
English  privateer  to  announce  their  desperate  plight 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

and  urgent  necessities  to  Lord  St.  Vincent. — "  Their 
Majesties  observe  the  critical  moment  for  all  Europe, 
and  the  threatens  of  an  invasion  even  in  England. 
They  are  perfectly  convinced  of  the  generous  and  ex- 
tensive exertions  of  the  British  nation  at  this  moment, 
but  a  diversion  in  these  points  might  operate  ad- 
vantage for  the  common  war.  Will  England  see  all 
Italy,  and  even  the  two  Sicilies,  in  the  French  hands 
with  indifference?"  The  half-hearted  Emperor  had 
at  last  consented  to  think  of  assisting  his  relations, 
though  only  should  Naples  be  assailed ;  this  perhaps 
might  "  hurry  England."  Seventeen  ships  of  the  line 
would  soon  be  ready;  there  were  seventy  in  Genoa, 
thirty  at  Civita  Vecchia.  These  could  carry  "  perhaps 
8000  men."  But  the  French  at  Toulon  could  convey 
18,000.  "  With  the  English  expedition  we  shall  be 
saved.  This  is  my  communication  from  their 
Majesties." 

Hamilton's  reply  must  have  been  bitterly  cautious, 
for  Acton  in  his  answer  observes,  "  We  cannot  avoid 
to  expose  that  His  Sicilian  Majesty  confides  too  much 
in  His  Britannic  Majesty's  Ministry's  help." 

And  all  this  time  Emma  is  never  from  Maria  Caro- 
lina's side ;  writing  to  her,  urging,  praising,  heartening, 
caressing  the  English.  The  Queen  is  all  gratitude  to 
her  humble  friend,  whose  enthusiasm  is  an  asset  of  her 
hopes : — "  Vous  en  etes  le  maitre  de  mon  cceur,  ma 
chere  miledy,"  she  writes  in  her  bad  and  disjointed 
French ;  "  ni  pour  mes  amis,  comme  vous,  ni  pour  mes 
opinions  [je]  ne  change  jamais."  She  is  "  impatient 
for  news  of  the  English  squadron."  But  she  is  still 
a  wretched  woman,  disquieted  by  doubts  and  worn  with 
care,  as  she  may  be  viewed  in  the  portraits  of  this 
period.  She  had  deemed  herself  a  pattern  of  duty, 
but  had  now  woke  up  to  the  consciousness  of  being 
execrated  by  her  victims ;  while  the  loyal  Lazzaroni,  al- 


190  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

ways  her  mislikers,  visited  each  national  calamity  on 
her  head.  Gallo,  Acton,  Belmonte,  Castelcicala,  Di 
Medici — all  had  been  tried,  and  except  Acton,  who 
himself  had  wavered,  all  had  been  found  wanting.  It 
is  the  Nemesis  of  despots,  even  if  enlightened,  to  rely 
successively  on  false  supports,  to  fly  by  turns  from 
betrayed  trust  to  treachery  once  more  trusted.  Emma 
at  all  events  would  ndt  fail  her,  and  never  did.  :<  You 
may  read,"  says  Thackeray,  "  Pompeii  in  some  folks' 
faces."  Such  a  Pompeii-countenance  must  have  been 
the  Queen's. 

The  English  squadron  was  at  last  a  fact.  On 
March  29,  1798,  Nelson  hoisted  his  flag  as  Rear- 
Admiral  of  the  Blue  on  board  the  Vanguard.  On 
April  10  he  sailed  on  one  of  the  most  eventful  voyages 
in  history. 

And  meanwhile  Maria  Carolina,  with  Emma  under 
her  wing,  might  be  seen  pacing  the  palace  garden,  and 
eagerly  scanning  the  horizon  from  sunny  Caserta  for 
a  glimpse  of  one  white  sail. 

Sister  Anne  stands  and  waits  on  her  watch-tower, 
feverish  for  Selim's  arrival,  while  anguished  Fatima 
peers  into  Bluebeard's  cupboard,  horror-stricken  at  its 
gruesome  medley  of  dismembered  sovereigns — martyrs 
or  tyrants — which  you  please. 


CHAPTER  VII 

TRIUMPH 
1798 

NELSON  was  in  chase  of  Buonaparte's  fleet. 
Napoleon's  Egyptian  expedition  was,  per- 
haps, the  greatest  wonder  in  a  course  rife  with 
them.  He  was  not  yet  thirty;  he  had  been  victorious 
by  land,  and  had  dictated  terms  at  the  gates  of  Vienna. 
In  Italy,  like  Tarquin,  he  had  knocked  off  the  tallest 
heads  first.  Debt  and  jealousy  hampered  him  at  home. 
It  was  the  gambler's  first  throw,  that  rarest  audacity. 
For  years  his  far-sightedness  had  fastened  on  the 
Mediterranean;  and  now  that  Spain  was  friends  with 
France,  he  divined  the  moment  for  crushing  Britain. 
But  even  then  his  schemes  were  far  vaster  than  his 
contemporaries  could  comprehend.  His  plan  was  to 
obtain  Eastern  Empire,  to  reduce  Syria,  and,  after  re- 
casting sheikhdoms  in  the  dominion  of  the  Pharaohs, 
possibly  after  subduing  India,  to  dash  back  and  con- 
quer England.  Italy  was  honeycombed  with  his  repub- 
lics. To  Egypt  France  should  be  suzerain,  a  democracy 
with  vassals ;  as  for  Great  Britain,  if  she  kept  her  King, 
it  must  be  on  worse  terms  than  even  Louis  the  Bour- 
bon had  once  dared  to  prescribe  to  the  Stuarts.  This, 
too,  was  the  first  and  only  time  when  he,  an  unskilled 
mariner,  was  for  a  space  in  chief  naval  command. 
Most  characteristic  was  it  also  of  him — the  encyclo- 
paedist in  action — to  have  remembered  science  in  this 
enterprise  against  science's  home  of  origin.  That  vast 

191 


192  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Armada  of  ships  and  frigates,  that  huge  L'Orient, 
whose  very  name  was  augury,  those  forty  thousand 
men  in  transports,  did  not  suffice.  An  -array  of 
savants,  with  all  their  apparatus,  swelling  the  muster 
on  board  their  vessel  to  no  less  than  two  thousand,  ac- 
companied the  new  man  who  was  to  make  all  things 
new.  It  was  nigh  a  month  after  Nelson  started  when 
Napoleon  sailed.  Sudden  as  a  flash  of  lightning,  yet 
impenetrable  as  the  cloud  from  which  it  darts,  he  veiled 
his  movements  and  doubled  in  his  course. 

It  was  on  Saturday,  June  16,  that  Hamilton  first 
sighted  Nelson's  approach.  The  van  of  the  small 
squadron  of  fourteen  sail  was  visible  as  it  neared  Ischia 
from  the  westward  and  made  for  Capri.  He  at  once 
took  up  his  pen  to  send  him  the  latest  tidings  of  the 
armament  which,  eluding  his  pursuit,  had  now  passed 
the  Sicilian  seaboard.  The  glad  news  of  Nelson's  ar- 
rival spread  like  wildfire.  The  French  residents 
mocked  and.  scowled.  The  people  cheered.  The  sol- 
emn ministers  smiled.  The  royal  family,  in  the  depths 
of  dejection,  plucked  up  heart ;  the  Queen  was  in 
ecstasy.  But  Gallo  and  the  anti-English  group  were 
suspicious  .and  perplexed.  They  and  the  King  still 
waited  on  Austria.  On  Spain  they  could  no  longer 
fawn. 

Nelson's  instructions  were  to  water  and  provide  his 
fleet  in  any  Mediterranean  port,  except  in  Sardinia,  if 
necessary  by  arms.  It  was  not  that  for  the  moment  he 
needed  refreshment  for  those  scanty  frigates,  the  want 
of  which,  he  wrote  afterwards,  would  be  found  graven 
on  his  heart.  But  he  had  a  long  and  intricate  enter- 
prise before  him.  He  was  hunting  a  fox  that  would 
profit  by  every  bend  and  crevice,  so  to  speak,  of  the 
country.  He  could  not  track  him  without  the  cer- 
tainty that,  apart  from  the  delays  that  force  must  en- 
tail, all  his  requirements,  perhaps  for  two  monthsx 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  193 

would  be  granted  on  mere  demand.  Even  so  early  as 
June  12  he  had  requested  definite  answers  from  Ham- 
ilton as  to  what  precise  aid  he  could  count  upon  from 
a  pseudo-neutral  power  trifling  over  diplomatic 
pedantries  with  the  slippery  chancelleries  of  Vienna; 
while  some  days  before,  Hamilton  received  from  Eden 
at  Vienna  a  despatch  from  Grenville  emphasising  the 
"  necessity,"  as  it  was  now  regarded  at  home,  for  en- 
suring the  "  free  and  unlimited  "  admission  of  British 
ships  into  Sicilian  harbours,  and  "  every  species  of 
provisions  and  supplies  usually  .afforded  by  an  ally." 
Hamilton  had  tried  in  vain  to  surmount  an  obstacle  im- 
portant alike  to  France,  to  the  King,  and  to  Austria. 
Nelson  also  knew  too  well  the  barrier  set  against  com- 
pliance by  the  terms  of  the  fatal  Franco-Neapolitan 
pact  of  1796.  Not  more  than  four  frigates  at  once 
might  be  received  into  any  harbour  of  Ferdinand's 
coasts.  He  knew  that  the  Queen  and  her  friends  were 
in  the  slough  of  despond.  He  knew  too — for  the 
Hamiltons  had  been  in  continual  correspondence — that 
Austria  was  once  more  shilly-shallying.  While  Naples 
was  longing  to  break  her  neutrality,  Austria,  for  the 
moment  satisfied  with  shame,  was  now  secretly  nego- 
tiating, with  all  the  long  and  tedious  array  of  etiquette, 
preliminaries  to  a  half-hearted  arrangement.  Even  in 
deliberation  she  would,  as  we  have  seen,  only  succour 
Naples  if  Naples  were  attacked.  Against  this  Napo- 
leon had  guarded :  so  far  as  concerned  him  and  the 
present,  Naples  should  be  left  in  perilous  peace.  He 
was  content  with  the  seeds  of  revolution  that  he  had 
stealthily  sown.  Even  as  he  passed  Trapani  on  his 
way  to  Malta,  which  already  by  the  loth  of  June  he 
had  invested  (and  whose  plunder  he  had  promised  to 
his  troops),  he  pacified  the  Sicilians  with  unlimited  re- 
assurances of  good-will.  And  Nelson  knew  well  also 
that  Maria  Carolina  and  Emma  chafed  under  the  fet- 


194  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

ters  of  diplomacy  and  of  treaty  that  shackled  action. 
If  only  he  could  obtain  some  royal  mandate  for  his 
purpose,  either  through  them — for  the  Queen  had 
rights  in  Council — or  from  Acton,  rather  than  the 
King  still  swayed  by  Gallo,  he  felt  convinced  of  success. 
Otherwise,  should  emergencies  arise  within  the  next 
few1  weeks,  as  arise  they  must,  he  would  perforce  hark 
back  to  Gibraltar;  and  in  such  a  water-hunt  of  views 
and  checks  as  he  now  contemplated,  delay  might  spell 
failure,  and  failure  his  country's  ruin. 

About  six  o'clock  by  Neapolitan  time,  on  a  lovely 
June  morning,  Captains  Troubridge  and  Hardy  landed 
from  the  Mutine,  which,  together  with  the  Monarch, 
on  which  was  Captain  T.  Carrol,  lay  anchored  in  the 
bay,  leaving  Nelson  in  the  Vanguard  with  his  fleet  off 
Capri.  Troubridge,  charged  with  important  requests 
by  Nelson,  at  once  proceeded  to  the  Embassy. 

Lady  Hamilton's  after-allegations  have  been  much 
criticised,  and,  step  by  step,  stubbornly  disputed,  while 
even  these,  as  will  be  urged,  have  perhaps  been  mis- 
read ;  nor  has  her  simpler  account  in  her  "  King's 
Memorial  "  been  taken,  still  less  Nelson's  repeated  as- 
surances about  her  "  exclusive  interposition  "  to  Rose, 
Pitt's  favourable  consideration,  Canning's  own  ac- 
knowledgment, the  neutrality  at  any  rate  of  Grenville, 
and  a  statement  by  Lord  Melville,  afterwards  to  be 
mentioned. 

Emma  and  her  husband  were  awakened  by  their 
early  visitors,  who  included  Hardy  and,  perhaps, 
Bowen.  Hamilton  arose  hurriedly,  and  took  the  of- 
ficers off  to  Acton's  neighbouring  house.  Some  kind 
of  council  was  held,  probably  at  the  palace.  In  that 
case  Gallo,  as  foreign  minister,  may  well  have  been 
present.  Troubridge,  as  Nelson's  mouthpiece,  stated 
his  requirements.  Gallo,  we  know,  was  hesitating  and 
hostile.  The  whole  arrangement  with  the  court  of 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  195 

Vienna  now  lagging  under  his  procrastination,  would 
be  spoiled  if  Naples  were  prematurely  to  break  with 
France,  and  an  open  breach  must  be  certain  if  succour 
for  the  whole  of  Nelson's  fleet  were  afforded  at  the 
Sicilian  ports  in  contravention  of  the  burdensome  en- 
gagement with  the  French  Directory;  while  it  would 
further  be  implied  that  the  British  fleet  was  at  the 
Neapolitan  service.  Recourse  to  the  King  would  not 
only  be  dangerous,  but  probably  futile;  the  more  so, 
since  the  French  minister  at  Naples  was  now  citizen 
Garat,  a  pedant,  pamphleteer,  and  lecturer  of  the  strait- 
est  sect  among  busybodying  theorists.  Such  a  man, 
Gallo  would  urge,  must  be  the  loudest  in  umbrage  at 
even  the  appearance  of  pro-British  zeal.  Acton  could 
have  rebutted  these  objections  by  observing  that  the 
"  order  "  need  not  be  signed  by  Ferdinand,  but  merely 
informally  by  himself  "in  the  King's  name";  as,  in 
fact,  a  sort  of  roving  "  credential  " ;  that  it  could  be  so 
worded  as  to  imply  no  breach  of  treaty,  but  only  the 
refreshment  of  four  ships  at  a  time;  that  the  gov- 
ernors of  the  ports  might  be  separately  instructed  to 
offer  a  show  of  resistance  if  more  were  demanded  of 
them;  that  Garat  need  never  know  what  had 
transpired  till  the  moment  came  when  Austria  had 
signed  her  pact  with  Naples,  and  France  might  be 
dared  in  the  face  of  day;  Troubridge's  reception  could 
be  (and  was)  represented  as  no  more  than  a  common 
civility  which  Acton  paid  not  only  to  English  visitors, 
but  even  to  French  officers.  All  must  be  "  under  the 
rose,"  and  thus  far  only  could  Nelson  be  obliged.  To 
Nelson's  further  requisition  for  frigates  a  polite  non 
possumus  could  be  the  only  answer.  Pending  these 
delicate  Austrian  negotiations,  and  until  an  open  rup- 
ture with  France  was  possible  with  safety,  Naples  was 
in  urgent  need  of  a  permanent  fleet  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean, and  this,  quid  pro  quo,  Nelson  naturally  would 

Memoirs — Vol.  14 — 7 


196  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

not  bind  himself  to  concede,  though,  so  far  as  his  in- 
structions and  the  situation  warranted,  he  was  ready, 
even  eager,  to  do  so. 

This  half-formal  but  scarcely  effectual  "  order  "  was 
obtained. 

There  exists  an  original  draft  of  Hamilton's  official 
recital  of  what  passed  to  Lord  Grenville.  One  of  its 
interlineations  is  perhaps  significant.  He  first  omitted, 
and  afterwards  added  that  the  order  was  in  Acton's 
handwriting  as  well  as  in  the  King's  name.  Nelson 
had  wanted  a  quick  royal  mandate.  He  received  a 
ministerial  order  involving  further  instructions  and 
diplomatic  delays.  Moreover,  five  days  after  Trou- 
bridge's  visit,  Acton  thanked  Hamilton  for  his  "  del- 
icate and  kind  part  "  "  under  all  the  circumstances." 
It  may  not  have  been  quite  such  a  plain-sailing  affair 
as  it  has  seemed. 

"  We  did  more  business  in  half  an  hour,"  wrote 
Hamilton  in  a  final  despatch  to  the  same  minister, 
"  than  we  should  have  done  in  a  week  in  the  usual 
official  way.  Captain  Troubridge  went  straight  to 
the  point.  ...  I  prevailed  upon  General  Acton  to 
write  himself  an  order  in  the  name  of  His  Sicilian 
Majesty,  directed  to  the  governors  of  every  port  in 
Sicily,  to  supply  the  King's  ships  with  all  sorts  of 
provisions,  and  in  case  of  an  action  to  permit  the  Brit- 
ish seamen,  sick  or  wounded,  to  be  landed  and  taken 
proper  care  of  in  their  ports."  The  draft,  however, 
contains  a  telling  supplement.  "  He  expressed  only  a 
wish  to  get  sight  of  Buonaparte  and  his  army,  '  for,' 
said  he,  'By  God,  we  shall  lick  them.' "  Before  Nel- 
son's officers  departed,  they  received  also  from  Hamil- 
ton's hands  Gallo's  fatuous  replies  to  their  Admiral's 
questions  of  five  days  before. 

Troubridge  was  "  perfectly  satisfied,"  he  could  even 
be  called  perfectly  happy.  But  meanwhile  that  may 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  197 

have  passed  which  Emma  afterwards  maintained.  Fate 
was  at  stake.  She  may  have  rushed  to  the  Queen,  for 
they  both  knew  how  little  such  a  conclave  would  prob- 
ably achieve;  and  Gallo's  attitude  might  well  deter 
Acton  from  straightforward  compliance.  Nelson 
might  fancy  this  council's  "  order  "  a  quick  passport  to 
his  desires.  But  they  knew  its  formal  flourishes  to  be 
doubtful.  In  the  result,  it  would  hardly  seem  to  have 
acted  with  speed  or  unaided.  Emma's  owu  after- 
story  is  that  she  besought  Maria  Carolina,  with  tears 
and  on  bended  knees,  to  exercise  her  prerogative  and 
supplement  the  mandate  by  the  promise  of  direct  in- 
structions. From  after  events  and  from  inveterate 
habit  the  dramatic  scene  is  probable.  According  to 
Emma  (and  Pettigrew),  Hamilton  wrote  forthwith  to 
Nelson,  "  You  will  receive  from  Emma  herself  what 
will  do  the  business  and  procure  all  your  wants."  One 
can  see  this  impulsive  woman  clapping  her  hands  for 
joy,  and  singing  aloud  with  exultation.  In  some  two 
hours  Troubridge  and  Hardy  had  rowed  back  to  the 
Mutiny  and  set  sail  towards  Capri. 

Within  a  few  hours  at  any  rate  Emma,  throbbing 
with  excitement,  penned  two  hasty  notes  to  Nelson  him- 
self, both  included  in  her  newly  found  correspondence 
of  this  year.  Each  —  and  they  are  brief  —  must  be  re- 
peated here,  for  the  second  of  them  disposes  of  the 
version,  hitherto  accepted,  that  Nelson  never  received 
that  from  the  Queen  which  his  famous  letter  to  Lady 
Hamilton  represents  him  as  "  kissing  ";  while  the  first 
suggests  a  likelihood  that  this  thrilling  day  did  not 
close  before  Emma  had  managed  to  see  Nelson  himself 
at  Capri.  Both  these  letters  are  scrawled  in  evident 
haste. 


June,  1/98.] 
"  MY  DEAR  ADMIRAL,  —  I  write  in  a  hurry  as  Captain 


198  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

T.  Carrol  stays  on  Monarch.  God  bless  you,  and  send 
you  victorious,  and  that  I  may  see  you  bring  back 
Buonaparte  with  you.  Pray  send  Captain  Hardy  out 
to  us,  for  I  shall  have  a  fever  with  anxiety.  The 
Queen  desires  me  to  say  everything  that's  kind,  and 
bids  me  say  with  her  whole  heart  and  soul  she  wishes 
you  victory.  God  bless  you,  my  dear  Sir.  I  will  not 
say  how  glad  I  shall  be  to  see  you.  Indeed  I  cannot 
describe  to  you  my  feelings  on  your  being  so  near 
us. — Eve^r,  Ever,  dear  Sir,  Your  affte.  and  grate- 
full 

"  EMMA  HAMILTON." 

But  now  comes  a  decisive  epistle,  the  missing  link, 
bearing  in  mind  Nelson's  disputed  answer  to  it,  the  date 
of  which  has  been  most  ingeniously  transferred  to  the 
following  May — a  date  not  perhaps  wholly  appropriate. 
Theory,  however,  must  here  yield  to  this  piece  of  reality 
on  a  scrap  of  notepaper. 

The  letter,  written  very  hurriedly,  is  on  similar  paper 
and  presumably  of  the  same  date  as  its  predecessor: — 

"  DEAR  SIR, — I  send  you  a  letter  I  have  received  this 
moment  from  the  Queen.  Kiss  it,  and  send  it  back  by 
Bowen,  as  I  am  bound  not  to  give  any  of  her  letters. — 
Ever  your 

"  EMMA." 

Captain  Bowen  of  the  Transfer  had  brought  Ham- 
ilton despatches  from  Lord  St.  Vincent  just  a  week 
before,  and  was  his  guest  until  the  2nd  of  August  sub- 
sequent. 

The  fact  that  Emma  begs  for  the  letter's  return  in- 
dicates that  it  was  one  of  importance,  and  might  com- 
promise the  Queen.  After  the  battle  of  the  Nile  Emma 
sent  Nelson  tivo  of  the  Queen's  ordinary  letters  about 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  199 

him,  as  a  token  of  gratitude,  and  without  any  request 
for  their  redelivery. 

This  missive  from  the  Queen  seems  to  have  been  one 
promising  Nelson  some  further  document  of  direct 
instructions  to  the  governors  of  ports  in  event  of  future 
urgency.  It  is  right,  however,  to  state  that  during 
revision  I  have  lit  on  a  Queen's  letter  of  about  this 
date  telling  Emma  that  "  circumstances  ...  do  not 
permit  of  opening  our  ports  and  arms  entirely  to  our 
brave  defenders";  "our  gratitude  is  none  the  less"; 
she  hopes  for  victory,  and  wanted  to  have  seen  Trou- 
bridge  had  prudence  allowed.  The  Queen's  anxiety, 
however,  to  aid  is  again  manifest  from  this  new  let- 
ter, which  shows,  too,  how  keenly  she  realised  the 
diplomatic  situation  on  which  such  stress  has  been  laid. 
In  the  absence  of  other  evidence  it  need  not  be  unduly 
pressed  against  my  theory  about  her  letter  of  mere 
promise  to  Nelson  on  June  17. 

The  immediate  reply  and  pendant  to  that  cheering 
communication  was  Nelson's  familiar  and  much- 
debated  letter  written  an  hour  before  he  weighed  an- 
chor : — 

"  MY  DEAR  LADY  HAMILTON, — /  have  kissed  the 
Queen's  letter.  Pray  say  I  hope  for  the  honor  of 
kissing  her  hand  when  no  fears  will  intervene,  assure 
her  Majesty  that  no  person  has  her  felicity  more  than 
myself  at  heart  and  that  the  sufferings  of  her  family 
will  be  a  Tower  of  Strength  on  the  day  of  Battle,  fear 
not  the  event,  God  is  with  us,  God  bless  you  and  Sir 
William,  pray  say  I  cannot  stay  to  answer  his  letter. — 
Ever  Yours  faithfully, 

"  HORATIO  NELSON."  1 

^This  letter  is  misdated  in  the  hurry  (as  was  sometimes  the 
way  with  Nelson),  I7th  May,  6  P.M.  It  is  admitted,  of  course, 
that  on  that  day  he  was  off  Cape  Sicie,  so  that  if  applicable  to 
1/98,  it  must  be  a  slip  of  the  pen  for  June  17.  With  regard  to 


200  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

On  this  (still  visible  in  the  British  Museum)  Emma's 
after-indorsement  runs,  "  This  letter  I  received  after 
I  had  sent  the  Queen's  letter  for  receiving  our  ships 
into  their  ports,  for  the  Queen  had  decided  to  act  in 
opposition  to  the  King,  who  would  not  then  break  with 
France,  and  our  Fleet  must  have  gone  down  to  Gibral- 
tar to  have  watered,  and  the  battle  of  the  Nile  would 
not  have  been  fought,  for  the  French  fleet  would  have 
got  back  to  Toulon."  She  is  reviewing  the  whole 
length  of  the  transaction,  the  critical  issues  at  Syracuse 
of  next  month  on  Nelson's  first  return  from  Egypt,  the 
ultimate  victory.  She  does  the  same  in  other  parts  of 
her  two  long  memorials.  Her  statements  have  been 
construed  as  post-dating  Nelson's  momentous  visit 
to  the  time  when  he  returned  from  pursuit  for  supplies 
to  Sicily  and  resailed  equipped  to  Aboukir  Bay. 
Emma's  words,  "  this  awful  period,"  tally  with  the 
general  impression  given  by  some  of  Acton's  letters  and 

"my  dear,"  etc.,  cf.  Morrison  MS.  317,  where  on  the  preceding 
day  Hamilton  mentions  her  as  "  Emma  "  to  his  "  dear  Nelson  " 
and  "  brave  friend,"  and  says  she  wishes  him  victory  "  heart 
and  soul."  In  her  "  Addington  "  memorial  of  1803  she  puts  the 
matter  quite  clearly: — "The  fleet  itself,  I  can  truly  say,  could  not 
have  got  into  Sicily,  but  for  what  I  was  happily  able  to  do  with 
the  Queen  of  Naples,  and  through  her  secret  instructions  so  ob- 
tained." 

The  material  wording  of  the  familiar  "  Prince  Regent's " 
memorial  runs :  "  It  was  at  this  awful  period  in  June  1798,  about 
three  days  after  the  French  fleet  passed  by  for  Malta,  Sir 
William  and  myself  were  awakened  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing by  Captain  Trowbridge  with  a  letter  from  Sir  Horatio 
Nelson,  then  with  his  fleet  off  the  bay  near  to  Caprea,  request- 
ing that  the  Ambassador  would  procure  him  permission  to  enter 
with  his  fleet  into  Naples  or  any  of  the  Sicilian  ports,  to  pro- 
vision, water,  etc.,  as  otherwise  he  must  run  for  Gibraltar, 
being  in  urgent  want,  and  that,  consequently,  he  would  be 
obliged  to  give  over  all  further  pursuit  of  the  French  fleet, 
which  he  missed  at  Egypt,  on  account  of  their  having  put  in  to 
Malta." 

The  wording  of  her  King's  memorial,  which  seems  never  to 
have  been  presented,  is  more  clearly  expressed  and  more  ex- 
plicit : — "  That  Your  Majesty's  Memorialist  on  a  subsequent  oc- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  201 

the  Queen's  as  to  the  present  crisis.  Hamilton  himself 
in  a  draft  for  his  known  despatch  of  this  date  to  Gren- 
ville  adds  the  significant  postscript — "  This  Court,  as 
you  may  perceive,  is  in  great  distress."  A  note  has  al- 
ready sought  to  show  that  Nelson  must  surely  have 
been  aware  of  the  court's  suffering  condition.  There 
seems,  therefore,  nothing  improbable  in  his  use  of  the 
phrase,  "  the  sufferings  of  her  family." 

I  hope  now  to  have  proved  that  this  long-questioned 
Nelson  letter  was,  undoubtedly,  the  instant  answer  to 
Emma's  own  communication,  for  the  first  time  here 
brought  to  light.  The  twin  letters  are  at  length  re- 
united, and  at  least  a  new  complexion  is  placed  on  the 
received  account.  Emma  assuredly  sent  Nelson  a  let- 
ter covering  one  from  the  Queen,  and  so  far  her  claim 
is  supported.  In  this  respect,  therefore,  modern  scep- 
ticism has  proved  mistaken.  I  cannot  but  hope  that 
such  as  have  doubted  may  now  find  reason  to  modify 
their  verdict,  and  will  honour  Nelson,  whose  love  for 
Emma  has  been  begrudged  as  debasement,  by  admit- 

casion,  by  means  of  the  same  confidential  communication  with 
that  great  and  good  woman,  the  Queen  of  Naples,  had  the  un- 
speakable felicity  of  procuring  a  secret  order  for  victualling  and 
watering,  at  the  port  of  Syracuse,  the  fleet  of  Your  Most 
Gracious  Majesty  under  the  command  of  Admiral  Nelson;  by 
which  means  that  heroic  man,  the  pride  and  glory  of  his  King 
and  country,  was  enabled  to  proceed  the  second  time  to  Egypt 
with  a  promptitude  and  celerity  which  certainly  hastened  the 
glorious  battle  of  the  Nile,  and  occasioned  his  good  and  grate- 
ful heart  to  admit  your  humble  Memorialist  as  well  as  the 
Queen  of  Naples  to  a  participation  in  that  important  victory." 
Her  words  speak  for  themselves  to  every  unprejudiced  mind. 

The  wording  of  Nelson's  codicil  is : — "  Secondly,  the  British 
fleet  under  my  command  could  never  have  returned  a  second 
time  to  Egypt  had  not  Lady  Hamilton's  influence  with  the 
Queen  of  Naples  caused  letters  to  be  wrote  to  the  Governor  of 
Syracuse,  that  he  was  to  encourage  the  fleet  to  be  supplied 
with  every  thing,  should  they  put  into  any  port  in  Sicily.  We 
put  into  Syracuse,  and  received  every  supply ;  went  to  Egypt 
and  destroyed  the  French  fleet.  Could  I  have  rewarded  these 
services,  I  would  not  now  call  upon  my  country." 


202  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

ting  that  what  he  claimed  in  his  last  codicil  for  the 
woman  of  his  heart  was  neither  "  infatuation  "  nor 
falsehood,  and  that  without  her  it  would  hardly  have 
happened. 

Scarcely  had  Nelson  put  to  sea  when  he  at  once  re- 
sumed communication  with  the  Hamiltons.  He  wishes 
the  Neapolitans  to  depend  upon  him.  If  only  supplies 
are  forthcoming  when  his  need  presses,  his  fleet  shall 
be  their  mainstay.  He  laments  his  lack  of  frigates,  but 
"thank  God,"  he  adds,  "I  am  not  apt  to  feel  diffi- 
culties." He  confides  to  Lady  Hamilton  his  hope 
to  be  "  presented "  to  her  "  crowned  with  laurels 
or  cypress."  He  presses  them  to  exert  themselves  in 
procuring  for  him  masts  and  stores.  He  deprecates 
the  diplomatic  quibbles  about  "  co-operation,"  while 
lagging  Austria  manoeuvres,  and  after  he  himself  has 
come  in  crisis  to  their  assistance.  He  points  out  the 
peril  from  Napoleon  at  Malta,  he  repeats,  "  Malta  is 
the  direct  road  to  Sicily."  The  Two  Sicilies  are  the 
key  of  the  position. 

And,  indeed,  the  catastrophe  of  Malta  formed  the 
dirge  of  all  this  summer.  The  Queen  was  distracted 
at  the  royal  and  ministerial  delays  and  punctilios.  La 
Valette  was  in  French  hands  "  without  a  blow,"  the 
Maltese  knights  were  dastards,  and  she  could  not  pity 
them.  "  Ces  coquins  de  Frangais  "  pretended  to  have 
grenades  to  burn  the  fleet  of  her  hopes.  She  dis- 
parages Garat.  She  sends  her  "  dear,  faithful  "  Emma 
the  Austrian  ciphers  to  copy  under  vows  of  secrecy : 
Emma  will  see  how  little  sincerity  exists  in  Vienna. 
Emma  is  indispensable.  Emma  has  infused  her  whole 
being  with  Nelson.  The  Queen  bids  her  shout  and 
sing  once  more  before  the  assembled  throng,  "  Hip, 
hip,  hip!  "  "  God  save  the  King!  "  end  "  God  save  Nel- 
son! "  She  harps  on  Malta,  "  an  irreparable  loss,"  and 
"gallant  Nelson,  with  his  British  fleet,"  which  she 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  203 

strained  her  mind's  eye  to  follow  past  Cape  Passaro. 
She  owns  Emma's  initiative.  In  some  matter  seem- 
ingly relative  to  British  ships,  she  writes  that  Emma's 
wishes  are  assured  by  a  reputation  (was  it  Maltese?)  ; 
the  "  brave  English  "  are  now  assured  of  the  national 
sympathy. 

Nor  was  Hamilton  behindhand.  He  furnished  Nel- 
son with  advices.  He  informed  him  how  Napoleon 
had  quitted  Malta;  how  Carat's  insolent  demand  that 
the  French  should  usurp  the  Maltese  privilege  of  buy- 
ing Sicilian  corn  had  eventually  succeeded ;  "  shock- 
ing," he  comments,  that  neither  King  nor  Emperor 
will  "  abandon  half  measures."  He  sent  him  Captain 
Hope  with  Irish  intelligence.  He  looked  hourly  for 
news  of  the  French  Armada's  overthrow. 

Lady  Hamilton  also  continued  her  correspondence. 
She  thanks  him  for  his  letter  through  Captain  Bowen, 
which  she  has  translated  for  the  Queen,  who  "  prays 
for  "  his  "  honour  and  safety — victory,  she  is  sure,  you 
will  have  " ;  she  "  sees  and  feels  "  all  Nelson's  grounds 
for  complaint, — so  does  Emma,  who  calls  Garat  "  an 
impudent,  insolent  dog."  "  I  see  plainly,"  she  adds 
with  emphasis,  "  The  Court  of  Naples  must  declare 
war,  if  they  mean  to  save  their  country.  But  alas! 
their  First  Minister  Gallo  is  a  frivolous,  ignorant,  self- 
conceited  coxcomb,  that  thinks  of  nothing  but  his  fine 
embroidered  coat,  ring  and  snuff-box;  and  half  Naples 
thinks  him  half  a  Frenchman;  and  God  knows,  if  one 
may  judge  of  what  he  did  in  making  the  peace  for  the 
Emperor,  he  must  either  be  very  ignorant,  or  not  at- 
tached to  his  masters  or  the  Cause  Commune.  The 
Queen  and  Acton  cannot  bear  him,  and  consequently 
he  cannot  have  much  power ;  but  still  a  First  Minister, 
although  he  may  be  a  minister  of  smoke,  yet  he  has 
always  something,  at  least  enough  to  do  mischief.  The 
Jacobins  have  all  been  lately  declared  innocent,  after 


204  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

suffering  four  years'  imprisonment;  and  I  know,  they 
all  deserved  to  be  hanged  long  ago;  and  since  Garat 
has  been  here,  and  through  his  insolent  letters  to  Gallo. 
these  pretty  gentlemen,  that  had  planned  the  death  of 
their  Majesties,  are  to  be  let  out  in  society  again.  In 
short,  I  am  afraid,  all  is  lost  here;  and  I  am  grieved  to 
the  heart  for  our  dear,  charming  Queen,  who  deserves 
a  better  fate.  ...  I  hope  you  will  not  quit  the  Mediter- 
ranean without  taking  us.  .  .  .  But  yet,  I  trust  in  God 
and  you,  that  we  shall  destroy  those  monsters  before  we 
go  from  hence.  God  bless  you,  my  dear,  dear  sir." 

And  meanwhile  Nelson,  in  hot  pursuit,  scoured  the 
Mediterranean — Malta,  Candia,  Alexandria,  Syria — 
in  vain.  The  commander  of  both  fleet  and  army,  with 
genius,  youth,  and  Corsican  strategy  to  back  him,  still 
baffled  the  daring  "  sea-wolf,"  as  he  always  called  him. 
Nelson  lived  "  in  hopes,"  he  never  rested.  But  "  the 
Devil's  children  have  the  Devil's  luck,"  as  he  and  Ham- 
ilton both  assured  each  other. 

The  I  Qth  of  July  saw  him  back  at  Syracuse  in  recoil 
for  his  last  spring,  and  in  the  very  need  against  which 
his  foresight  had  forearmed  him.  He  lacked  both 
stores  and  water.  He  seemed  as  far  from  his  goal  as 
when  he  started. 

Let  him  speak  for  himself.  Writing  from  Syracuse 
and  in  retrospect,  he  told  Hamilton :"...!  stretched 
over  to  the  coast  of  Caramama ;  where  not  speaking  a 
vessel  who  could  give  me  information,  I  became  dis- 
tressed for  the  kingdom  of  the  Two  Sicilies ;  and  hav- 
ing gone  a  round  of  six  hundred  leagues,  at  this  season 
of  the  year  (with  a  single  ship,  with  an  expedition  in- 
credible), here  I  am,  as  ignorant  of  the  situation  of  the 
enemy  as  I  was  twenty-seven  days  ago !  " 

Now  was  the  time  for  the  Queen's  "  open  sesame," 
if  both  Acton's  "  order  "  and  her  own  "  letter  "  of 
promise  failed  to  operate  with  expedition.  That  such 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  205 

a  letter  was  -probably  in  Nelson's  pocket  may  be  in- 
ferred from  the  subsequent  narrative. 

While  Nelson  nears  the  Syracusan  harbour  bar,  mod- 
ern criticism  once  more  intercepts  our  view,  and  must 
for  a  moment  delay  our  story.  It  will  not  do  so  long, 
because  one  of  the  documents  on  which  its  controversy 
relies  will  enable  us  to  resume  our  thread.  But  three 
preliminaries  must  first  be  mentioned. 

It  is  important  to  distinguish  between  the  official  and 
the  private  letters  of  Nelson  and  Hamilton — the  former 
meant  to  be  shown  to  others,  the  latter  written  for  the 
recipient  alone ;  and,  more  especially,  beween  these  two 
distinct  classes  of  correspondence,  and  those  other  half- 
private  letters  intended  for  Hamilton  to  show  Acton  in 
confidence,  and  yet  hinting  or  suggesting  more  than 
the  General  was  meant  to  gather  from  them. 

It  has  also  escaped  full  notice  that  for  some  time 
past  a  private  correspondence  had  regularly  passed  be- 
tween Nelson  and  the  Hamiltons.  This  is  clear  from 
a  letter  (soon  to  be  quoted)  of  July  22  from  Nelson  to 
Lady  Hamilton  in  the  Morrison  Collection,  where  he 
inquires  after  her  plans  for  "  coming  down  the  Medi- 
terranean "  with  her  husband,  presumably  to  help  him. 
Thirdly,  so  late  as  the  first  week  in  August,  after  Nel- 
son's battle  had  been  won,  Acton  was  still  ignorant  that 
his  ships  had  been  adequately  provisioned,  and  was  ar- 
ranging further  measures  for  the  purpose;  aware  on 
August  15  of  the  Sicilian  provisions,  he  planned 
more. 

Let  us  glance  at  a  little  farce  enacted  with  exquisite 
gravity  by  the  Governor  of  Syracuse. 

It  emerges  from  a  document  addressed  by  him  to 
General  Sir  John  Acton.  A  key  to  this  is  supplied 
by  the  fact  that  General  Acton,  days  after  handing  the 
informal  "  order,"  had  expressly  cautioned  Hamilton 
that,  pending  the  as  yet  unsigned  articles  with  Austria, 


206  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

all  the  governors  of  all  Sicilian  ports  had  been  specially 
directed  to  make  an  "  ostensible  opposition,"  lest  the 
French  might  be  incensed  into  attack  by  any  open 
breach  of  the  stipulated  Neapolitan  neutrality.  Above 
all,  it  should  be  noted  that  this  Governor's  letter  at 
Naples  seems  to  distinguish  between  a  royal  despatch 
signed  by  Acton,  and  a  royal  letter  in  Nelson's  pos- 
session. On  the  other  hand,  the  other  construction  is 
open.  When  the  "  Vice-Admiral  "  declared  that  the 
letter  entitled  the  whole  fleet  to  be  watered,  he  may 
only  have  been  making  the  best  of  the  despatch. 

The  whole  scene  rises  vividly  before  us.  On  the 
morning  of  Thursday  the  igth  "  several  ships  "  were 
seen  sailing  in  slow  procession  from  the  east.  Gradu- 
ally fourteen  emerged  from  "  the  distance."  As  they 
became  more  distinct  in  the  freshening  east  wind,  the 
Governor  ordered  the  castle  flag  to  be  hoisted,  and  the 
British  flag  was  instantly  flown  in  reply. 

The  Governor  next  sent  out  his  boat  with  the 
"Captain  of  the  Port"  and  the  "Adjutant  of  the 
Town,"  civilians  charged  with  compliments  and  offers. 
Nelson,  however,  regardless  of  these  ceremonies, 
profited  by  the  wind  to  steer  "  straight  into  the  har- 
bour." The  pompous  Governor,  shocked  at  such  haste, 
forwarded  a  second  boat  with  two  military  function- 
aries to  repeat  his  compliments,  and  to  acquaint  the 
Admiral  with  what  he  had  known  and  resented  for 
weeks — the  impediment  of  "  not  more  than  four  ships 
of  war  at  a  time."  But  Nelson  had  anticipated  these 
formal  courtesies.  A  shore-boat  promptly  met  the 
Governor's  with  "  a  royal  letter  "  purporting  to  con- 
tain royal  instructions  for  the  admission  of  the  whole 
squadron.  This  I  take  to  have  been  the  Queen's  pri- 
vate letter,  forwarded  in  pursuance  of  her  promise  to 
Emma,  and  holding  the  Governor  harmless  in  disobey- 
ing the  strict  letter  of  the  law.  While,  therefore,  in 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  207 

pursuance  of  certainty,  the  entire  squadron  advanced 
to  cross  the  bar,  the  British  "  Vice- Admiral  "  proceeded 
with  the  officers,  and  was  received  by  the  Governor 
at  his  house.  There  he  delivered  a  further  (and  sep- 
arate?) missive,  "a  royal  despatch"  written  in  the 
King's  name,  and  signed  by  Acton — in  fact,  the  ir- 
regular "  order  "  obtained  on  that  memorable  morning 
of  June  17,  and  by  no  means  expressly  empowering  the 
reception  of  the  whole  fleet.  The  Governor,  conform- 
ing to  the  prescribed  comedy,  feigned  hesitation ;  there- 
upon a  letter  from  Nelson  himself  was  shown — "  dif- 
ficult to  read,"  and  justifying  the  entire  squadron's  en- 
trance. Hereupon  the  Governor,  "  struck  "  by  what 
he  must  have  known,  and  also  by  other  rejections  [The 
Queen's  private  order?],  reminds  one  of  Byron's  "  and 
whispering  I  will  ne'er  consent,  consented."  He  af- 
fected to  raise  "  friendly  protests,"  while  he  enforced 
the  King's  directions  to  save  appearances  by  spreading 
the  ships  over  different  regions  and  at  various  distances. 
He  even  hinted  in  confidence  the  "  propriety  "  of  quit- 
ting the  port  as  soon  as  possible,  and  of  landing  none 
but  unarmed  sailors,  and  even  these  under  a  promise  to 
return  so  soon  as  the  city  gates  were  closed  at  sunset. 
On  the  following  afternoon  Nelson  and  his  "  staff  " 
paid  their  respects.  The  Governor  grasped  him 
warmly  by  the  hand,  but  still  maintained  his  outward 
show  of  resistance.  There  were,  he  said,  royal  orders, 
under  present  circumstances,  forbidding  him  to  return 
the  call  on  shipboard.  And  the  last  sentence  of  his 
record  perhaps  best  illustrates  the  whole  comedy  by 
solemnly  informing  Sir  John  that  the  recital  was  only 
addressed  to  him  for  the  official  purpose  of  being 
shown  to  his  Sicilian  Majesty.  Ferdinand  was  to  be 
kept  in  the  dark.  He  was  ignorant  of  anything  that 
the  Queen  might  have  dared  through  Emma's  request. 
He  was  to  believe  that  the  stretch  of  international  ci- 


208  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

vility  had  been  empowered  by  Acton's  document  alone, 
the  document  signed  in  his  name. 

So  much  for  outward  semblance.  Nelson's  inner 
feelings  at  this  most  critical  juncture  supplement  the 
story. 

We  have  reached  July  the  2ist.  The  fleet  was  not 
completely  stocked  and  watered  till  the  23rd.  Before 
that  date  the  whole  town  rejoiced  and  fraternised  with 
the  British  sailors:  of  sympathy  at  least  there  was  no 
concealment,  and — a  real  Sicilian  trait — all  the  country- 
folk immediately  raised  the  price  of  their  provisions. 

On  July  22nd  Nelson  forwarded  two  private  let- 
ters, one  to  Sir  William,  the  other  to  Lady  Hamilton. 

They  are  both  indignant  and  irritable  at  delay  ag- 
gravated by  intense  disappointment.  It  was  not  only 
that  he  was  still  without  news  of  the  French.  He  had 
counted  on  the  instant  virtue  of  Acton's  order,  without 
the  need  of  recourse  to  a  secret  charm.  For  Hamil- 
ton had  been  told  only  three  weeks  before  by  the  Gen- 
eral that,  in  pursuance  of  it,  "  every  proper  order  "  for 
the  British  squadron  "  had  been  already  given  in 
Sicily,"  and  "  in  the  way  mentioned  here  with  the  brave 
Captain  Troubridge."  Nelson  had  therefore  good 
reason  to  hope  for  prepared  co-operation.  He  had 
been  met  by  farcical  routine;  and  red-tape,  even  when 
most  expected,  always  repelled  and  ruffled  him.  Nor 
so  far  had  the  Queen's  letter  of  indemnity  to  the  Gov- 
ernors been  followed  by  the  actual  "  open  sesame  " 
which  she  had  promised  as  a  last  resort.  For  disap- 
pointment concerning  Acton's  order  he  was  prepared, 
but  not  for  the  failure  of  his  hidden  talisman.  So  far 
the  charm  had  not  worked;  a  fresh  letter  from  the 
Queen  might  still  be  required. 

"  I  have  heard  so  much  said,"  runs  Nelson's  first  out- 
burst— which  he  entrusted  to  the  Governor  himself  for 
transit — "  about  the  King  of  Naples'  orders  only  to 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  209 

admit  three  or  four  of  the  ships  .  .  .  that  I  am  aston- 
ished. I  understood  that  private  orders  at  least  would 
have  been  given  for  our  free  admission.  .  .  .  Our 
treatment  is  scandalous  for  a  great  nation  to  put  up 
with  and  the  King's  flag  is  insulted  at  every  friendly 
port  we  look  at." 

The  second — to  Lady  Hamilton — is  almost  cool  in 
ironical  displeasure,  a  coolness  betokening  how  unex- 
pectedly his  cherished  hopes  had  been  belied: — 

"  MY  DEAR  MADAM, — I  am  so  hurt  at  the  treatment 
we  received  from  the  power  we  came  to  assist  and 
fight  for,  that  I  am  hardly  in  a  situation  to  write  a 
letter  to  an  elegant  body:  therefore  you  must  on  this 
occasion  forgive  my  want  of  those  attentions  which  I 
am  ever  anxious  to  shew  you.  /  wish  to  know  your 
and  Sir  William's  plans  for  coming  down  the  Medi- 
terranean, for  if  we  are  to  be  kicked  at  every  port  of 
the  Sicilian  dominions,  the  sooner  we  are. gone,  the 
better.  Good  God !  how  sensibly  I  feel  our  treatment. 
I  have  only  to  pray  that  I  may  find  the  French  and 
throw  all  my  vengeance  on  them." 

The  omission  in  these  lines  of  any  specific  mention 
either  of  the  Queen  or  her  letter,  so  far  from  being 
singular,  is  exactly  what  was  to  be  expected.  She  al- 
ways stipulated  in  such  matters  that  her  name  should 
never  be  breathed,  nor  her  position  jeopardised  with 
the  King,  and  in  this  instance  Acton  also  had  to  be  kept 
in  the  dark.  It  will  be  remembered  also  that  Emma's 
letter  inclosing  the  Queen's  promise  to  Nelson  ex- 
pressly stated  that  she  was  "  bound  not  to  give  any  of 
her  letters,"  and,  indeed,  claimed  its  instant  return. 

But  meanwhile,  on  this  very  22nd  of  July,  a  sudden 
change  came  over  Nelson's  tone;  still  more  so,  on  the 
following  day  before  he  weighed  anchor.  Melancholy 


210  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

and  annoyance  gave  way  to  delight.  Something  must 
have  intervened  to  alter  the  face  of  affairs,  something 
with  which  Nelson's  temper  accorded,  and  that  some- 
thing was  certainly  not  any  sight  of  the  French  fleet. 
Delay  had  been  removed. 

Shortly  after  these  two  epistles  to  the  Hamiltons 
Nelson  further  penned  his  short  but  memorable 
"  Arethusa  "  letter  to  them.  Both  Sir  Harris  Nicolas, 
and  Professor  Laughton  following  him,  have  denied 
the  authenticity  of  this  letter  on  the  internal  evidence  of 
its  style.  They  say  that  Nelson  could  never  have  used 
such  a  classical  or  poetical  phrase  as  "  surely  watering 
by  the  fountain  of  Arethusa."  But  in  the  first  place 
it  is  not,  in  Syracuse,  poetical  or  classical,  as  every 
traveller  is  aware.  Each  Syracusan  street-boy  to  this 
day  calls  the  spring  by  the  sea,  with  its  rim  of  Egyptian 
cotton-plants,  "  the  fountain  of  Arethusa."  And  in 
the  second,  if  it  were,  it  would  be  in  accordance  with 
many  of  Nelson's  phrases  caught  from  the  Hamiltons. 
Professor  Laughton  has,  I  believe,  gone  so  far  as  even 
to  doubt  that  Hamilton  about  this  period  could  address 
his  friend  as  "  My  dear  Nelson."  He  is  mistaken. 
.Writing  to  Nelson  a  month  previously,  Sir  William 
ends  with  "  All  our  present  dependance  is  in  you,  my 
dear  Nelson,  and  I  am  convinced  that  what  is  in  the 
power  of  mortal  man,  you  will  do." 

The  "  Arethusa  "  letter  springs,  it  is  true,  from  the 
suspected  source  of  the  Life  of  Nelson  by  the  hireling 
Harrison — that  same  Harrison  who,  perhaps,  was  one 
of  those  to  embitter  the  darkening  days  and  fortunes  of 
Lady  Hamilton,  his  benefactress.  But  it  is  sanctioned 
by  Pettigrew,  who,  as  a  collector  par  excellence  of  Nel- 
son autographs,  was,  on  questions  of  style,  an  expert 
of  tried  judgment;  and  it  will  be  noticed  with  interest 
that  "the  laurel  or  cypress"  passage  (itself  both 
poetical  and  classical)  forms  a  feature  also  of  his  in- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  211 

disputable  "  private  "  letter  to  Hamilton  already  no- 
ticed, and  following  immediately  on  his  authentic  an- 
swer to  Lady  Hamilton's  newly  found  note  of  June 
17:— 

"  MY  DEAR  FRIENDS, — Thanks  to  your  exertions,  we 
have  victualled  and  watered:  and  surely  watering  at 
the  Fountain  of  Arethusa  we  must  have  victory.  We 
shall  sail  with  the  first  breeze  and  be  assured  I  will  re- 
turn either  crowned  with  laurel,  or  covered  with 
cypress." 

The  "  first  breeze  "  did  not  apparently  rise  until  the 
day  following;  and  even  if  the  "Arethusa"  letter 
were  a  fabrication,  which  I  can  see  no  valid  reason  for 
supposing,  we  are  able  to  dispense  with  its  witness  to 
Nelson's  sudden  relief  of  mood.  He  was  now  enabled 
to  start  about  two  days  earlier  than  he  had  hoped,  and 
on  the  23rd,  before  departing,  he  wrote  yet  again  to 
his  dear  friends  in  joyful  gratitude,  and  in  phrases  im- 
plying that  the  long-deferred  "  private  orders  "  had 
arrived,  though  the  evidently  guarded  wording  pro- 
vides, as  so  often,  against  its  being  shown  to  General 
Acton.  This  letter's  authenticity  can  hardly  be 
doubted. 

"  The  fleet  is  unmoored,  and  the  moment  the  wind 
comes  off  the  land  shall  go  out  of  this  delightful  har- 
bour, where  our  present  wants  have  been  amply  sup- 
plied, and  where  every  attention  has  been  paid  to  us; 
but  I  have  been  tormented  by  no  private  orders  being 
given  to  the  Governor  for  our  admission.  I  have  only 
to  hope  that  I  shall  still  find  the  French  fleet,  and  be 
able  to  get  at  them.  .  .  .  No  frigates!  "  Even  a  fort- 
night later  Acton  still  excuses  himself  to  Hamilton. 

Assuredly  throughout  these  quick  transitions  the  un- 
dertone of  Emma  and  the  Queen  is  audible.  Nelson 


212  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

knew  what  had  really  happened ;  his  commentators  are 
left  to  guess  the  truth  from  disputed  shreds  of  cor- 
respondence. 

Refitted  and  reheartened,  Nelson,  who,  as  ever,  had 
long  been  rehearsing  his  plans  to  his  officers,  hastened 
with  his  fleet  to  Aboukir  Bay.  There  is  no  need  to  re- 
count that  memorable  struggle  of  the  ist  of  August, 
which  lasted  over  .  twenty-four  hours — the  daring 
strategy  of  a  master-pilot,  the  giant  L' Orient  blazing 
with  colours  already  struck,  and  exploded  under  a  sul- 
len sky  torn  with  livid  lightning,  the  terrific  thunder- 
storm interrupting  the  death-throes  of  the  battle,  the 
complete  triumph  of  an  encounter  which  delivered 
England  from  France,  and  nerved  a  revived  Europe 
against  her.  Villeneuve  had  been  outwitted;  Brueys 
was  dead ;  so  was  Ducheyla.  Even  Napoleon's  papers 
had  been  captured.  Nelson  stands  out  after  the  tur- 
moil, once  more  battered,  once  again  far  more  zealous 
for  the  fame  of  his  officers  than  his  own,  yet  furious 
at  the  escape  of  the  only  two  French  frigates  that 
avoided  practical  annihilation.  Never  was  there  a 
supreme  naval  encounter  that  exercised  such  a  moral 
effect,  and  so  defeated  both  the  foe  and  anticipation. 
He  was  acclaimed  the  "  saviour  "  both  of  Britain  and 
the  Continent. 

And  his  trust  in  the  Hamiltons,  his  unshakable  be- 
lief in  Emma,  were  at  once  evinced  by  his  giving  them 
the  earliest  intelligence  of  what  set  all  Europe  tingling. 
Emma's  ears  and  her  husband's  were  the  very  first  to 
hear  it. 

The  French  had  vaunted  that  Buonaparte  would 
erase  Britain  from  the  map.  In  their  desperation  they 
still  vowed  to  burn  her  fleet.  Their  insolence  on 
Carat's  lips  had  resounded  in  the  streets  and  on  the 
very  house-tops  of  Naples.  It  was  not  long  before  that 
same  Carat  was  to  be  curtly  dismissed,  before  not  a 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  213 

"  French  dog  "  dared  "  show  his  face,"  before  at  the 
opera  "  not  a  French  cockade  was  to  be  seen  " ;  before 
the  Queen,  half-mad  for  joy,  addressed  an  English 
letter  to  the  British  sailors,  doubtless  with  her  Emma's 
aid,  sent  them  casks  of  wine  incognita,  and  presented 
Hoste  with  a  diamond  ring,  before  Britain  and  Naples 
had  struck  up  a  close  alliance  against  the  common  foe. 
The  world  was  a  changed  world  from  that  of  a 
week  before.  History  had  been  made  and  was  making. 
On  Nelson's  life,  to  quote  Lord  St.  Vincent's  words, 
hung  the  fate  of  the  remaining  Governments  in  Europe, 
"  whose  system  has  not  been  deranged  by  these  devils." 
But  for  him  Britain  might  have  been  France,  and  the 
Mediterranean  a  French  lake.  To  the  end  of  time  the 
Nile  would  rank  with  Marathon,  with  Actium,  with 
Blenheim.  Nelson  had  entered  the  Pantheon  of  fame, 
he  had  embodied  his  country,  he  was  Great  Britain. 
He  belonged  to  Time  no  longer.  Emma's  heart 
leaped,  as  she  flew  exulting  with  the  first  breath  of  vic- 
tory to  the  Queen.  So  early  as  September  the  ist 
she  had  heard  the  triumph  of  which  ministers  and 
potentates  were  ignorant;  she,  the  poor  Cheshire  girl, 
the  "  Lancashire  Witch,"  whose  dawn  of  life  had  been 
smirched  and  sullied;  she,  the  eleve  of  lecturing  and 
hectoring  Greville,  the  wife  of  an  ambassador  whose 
lethargy  she  had  stirred  to  purpose;  she,  the  admired 
of  artists,  the  Queen's  comrade.  Was  anything  im- 
possible to  youth  and  beauty,  and  energy  and  charm? 
It  had  proved  the  same  of  old  with  those  classical 
freed  women — Epicharis,  staunch  amid  false  knights 
and  senators;  and  Panthea,  perhaps  Emma's  own  pro- 
totype, whose  giftedness  and  "  chiselled  "  beauty  Lu- 
cian  has  extolled.  Had  she  not  from  the  first  fed  her 
inordinate  fancy  with  grandiose  reveries  of  achieve- 
ment ?  Had  she  not  burst  her  leading-strings  ?  More 
than  all,  had  not  Nelson,  already  in  August,  asked  her 


\  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

to  welcome  "  the  remains  of  Horatio  "  ?  And  now,  in 
this  universal  moment,  she  had  both  part  and  lot.  Was 
it  wonderful  that,  throbbing  in  every  vein,  she  swooned 
to  the  ground  and  bruised  her  side  with  Nelson's  letter 
in  her  hand?  We  have  only  to  read  the  series  of  her 
correspondence  at  this  date  with  Nelson,  to  realise  her 
intoxication  of  rapture. 

But  there  was  more  than  this.  It  often  happens  that 
when  glowing  and  inflammable  natures,  such  as  hers 
and  Nelson's,  have  dreamed  united  visions,  the  mere 
fulfilment  links  them  irrevocably  together.  Mutual 
hope  and  mutual  faith  refuse  to  be  sundered.  The 
hero  creates  his  heroine,  the  heroine  worships  her 
maker,  who  has  transformed  her  in  her  own  eyes  as 
well  as  his.  It  is  the  old  romance  of  Pygmalion  and 
Galatea.  He  places  her  on  a  pedestal  and  in  a  shrine. 
Henceforth  for  Nelson,  however  misguided  in  outward 
"  fact,"  Emma  stands  out  adorable  as  Britannia.  "  She 
and  the  French  fleet "  are  his  all  in  all.  His  ecstasies 
in  her  honour  spring  from  his  firm  conviction  that  but 
for  her  that  mighty  blow  might  never  have  been  struck, 
nor  Buonaparte  crushed.  Emma,  for  him,  is  England. 
He  returns  to  her  crowned  not  with  "  cypress,"  but 
laurels  ever  green.  And  she  has  plucked  some  of  them 
for  his  wreath.  He  acknowledges  that  his  was  the  first 
approach.  As  he  wrote  to  her  not  three  years  later 
in  a  passage  now  first  brought  to  light,  "  I  want  not  to 
conquer  any  heart,  if  that  which  I  have  conquered  is 
happy  in  its  lot:  I  am  confident,  for  the  Conqueror 
is  become  the  Conquered." 

And  once  more,  with  regard  to  Emma  herself.  She 
had  never  yet  been  free  in  her  affections.  Her  devo- 
tion to  Greville,  her  attachment  to  her  husband,  had 
grown  up  out  of  loyal  gratitude,  not  from  spontaneous 
choice,  and  the  contrast  first  presented  itself  to  her, 
not  as  an  untutored  girl,  but  as  a  skilled  woman  of  the 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  215 

world.  Sir  William  was  now  sixty-eight,  Nelson  just 
on  forty — "  I' age  critique,"  as  the  French  term  it. 
She  firmly  believed  that  she  had  helped  his  heroism  to 
triumph ;  he  as  firmly,  that  his  battle  had  been  half  won 
through  her  aid.  Both  were  susceptible.  Both 
despised  the  crowd  from  which  in  character  and  cir- 
cumstances they  stood  apart.  Emma's  morality  had 
been  largely  one  of  discretion.  Nelson's  was  one  of 
religion.  If  Nelson  came  to  persuade  himself  that  she 
was  born  to  be  his  wife  in  the  sight  of  God — and  all 
his  after  expressions  to  her  prove  it — it  would  not  be 
strange  if  such  a  woman,  still  beautiful,  in  a  sybarite 
atmosphere  where  she  was  held  up  as  a  paragon,  should 
throw  discretion  to  the  winds  of  chance.  It  was  after 
some  such  manner  that  these  problems  of  heart  and 
temperament  were  already  shaping  themselves. 

Consult  the  first  among  those  jubilant  letters,  a  few 
excerpts  from  which  have  been  quoted  in  the  second 
chapter.  They  eclipse  the  very  transports  of  the 
Queen,  "  mad  with  joy,"  and  hysterically  embracing 
all  around  her,  whose  own  letter  of  that  memorable 
Monday  evening  fully  bears  out  Emma's  account  in 
these  outpourings.  She  would  rather  have  been  a 
"  powder-monkey  in  that  great  Victory  than  an  Em- 
peror out  of  it."  Her  self-elation  is  all  for  Nelson. 
Posterity  ought  to  worship  the  deliverer  in  every  form 
and  under  every  title.  His  statue  should  be  "  of  pure 
gold."  Her  song  is  "  See  the  Conquering  Hero 
Comes,"  her  strain  is  "  Rule  Britannia."  Her  gifts  of 
voice  and  rhapsody  are  dedicated  to  these.  For  these 
she  hymns  the  general  joy,  while  the  illuminations  of 
her  windows  reflect  the  glow  of  her  bosom.  Nelson, 
Britain  in  cxcelsis,  down  with  the  execrable  Jacobins,  a 
fig  for  foreign  dictation — these  are  her  refrains.  Even 
her  "  shawl  is  in  blue  with  gold  anchors  all  over  " ;  her 
"  earrings  all  Nelson  anchors";  she  wears  a  bandeau 


216  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

round  her  forehead  with  the  words  "  Nelson  and  Vic- 
tory." Her  "  head  will  not  permit  "  her  to  tell  "  half 
of  the  rejoicing."  "  The  Neapolitans  are-  mad,  and 
if  he  was  here  now  he  would  be  killed  with  kindness." 
How  can  she  "  begin  "  to  her  "  dear,  dear  Sir  "  ?  Since 
the  Monday  when  the  tidings  had  been  specially  con- 
veyed to  her,  she  has  been  "  delirious  with  joy  "  and 
has  "  a  fever  caused  by  agitation  and  pleasure."  She 
fell  fainting  and  hurt  herself  at  the  news.  "  God,  what 
a  Victory!  Never,  never  has  there  been  anything  half 
so  glorious,  so  complete."  She  would  "  feel  it  a 
glory  to  die  in  such  a  cause."  "  No,  I  would  not  like 
to  die  till  I  see  and  embrace  the  Victor  of  the  Nile." 
The  care  of  the  navy  now  engrosses  her.  There  is 
nothing  she  will  not  do  for  any  fellow-worker  with 
the  prince  of  men.  Captain  Hoste,  her  guest  from 
September  I,  never  forgot  her  tender  kindness.  She 
begged  and  procured  from  Lord  St.  Vincent  Captain 
Bowen's  promotion  to  the  command  of  L'Aquilon. 
Directly  Nelson  had  cut  short  his  brief  stay  of  con- 
valescence almost  before  the  plaudits  had  died  away, 
she  sat  down  to  write  to  the  hero's  wife,  as  she  was  to 
do  again  later  in  December.  She  tells  her  how  Nelson 
is  adored  by  King  and  Queen  and  people,  "as  if  he 
had  been  their  brother";  how  delighted  they  are  with 
the  stepson.  She  sends  her  Miss  Knight's  "  ode." 
She  enumerates  with  pride  the  royal  presents ;  the  sul- 
tan's aigrette  and  pelisse,  which  she  "  tastes "  and 
"  touches."  She  resents  the  inadequacy  of  his  Gov- 
ernment's acknowledgment — "  Hang  them,  /  say!" 

Both  she  and  Hamilton  were  soon,  in  Nelson's  words 
to  his  wife,  "  seriously  ill,  first  from  anxiety  and 
then  from  joy." 

But  now  she  is  "  preparing  his  apartments  against 
he  comes."  On  September  22  the  Vanguard  anchored 
in  the  bay,  and  he  came. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  217 

The  King  and  Queen  had  prepared  a  gorgeous  ova- 
tion. It  was  midsummer  weather,  and  a  cloudless  sky. 
No  sooner  was  Nelson's  small  contingent  descried  off 
the  rock  of  Tiberius  at  Capri,  than  the  royal  yacht, 
commanded  by  Caracciolo,  draped  with  emblems  and 
covered  with  spangled  awnings,  advanced  three  leagues 
out  to  meet  him.  On  deck  the  music  of  Paisiello  and 
of  Cimarosa — at  last  pardoned  for  composing  a  repub- 
lican ode — resounded  over  the  glassy  waters,  while  a 
whole  "  serenata "  of  smaller  craft  followed  in  its 
wake  and  swelled  the  chorus.  All  the  flower  of  the 
court,  including  the  Hamiltons,  was  on  board,  where 
stood  the  King  and  the  melancholy  bride  of  the  heir- 
apparent,  Princess  Clementina.  The  Queen,  herself 
unwell,  stayed  at  home  and  sent  her  grateful  homage 
through  Emma.  As  the  procession  started  from  the 
quay,  citizen  Garat,  foiled  and  sullen,  mewed  in  his 
palace  with  drawn  blinds,  caught  from  afar  the  strains 
of  triumph,  and  vowed  revenge. 

As  the  cortege  neared  the  Vanguard,  both  the  Ham- 
iltons, worn  with  fatigue  and  excitement,  and  the  royal 
party,  greeted  him.  The  picture  of  their  meeting  is 
familiar.  It  has  been  painted  in  Nelson's  own  words  to 
his  wife: — "Alongside  came  my  honoured  friends: 
the  scene  in  the  boat  was  terribly  affecting.  Up  flew 
her  Ladyship,  and  exclaiming,  '  O  God !  Is  it  possible  ?  ' 
she  fell  into  my  arm  more  dead  than  alive.  Tears, 
however,  soon  set  matters  to  rights;  when  alongside 
came  the  King.  The  scene  was  in  its  way  as  interest- 
ing. He  took  me  by  the  hand,  calling  me  his  '  Deliv- 
erer and  Preserver,'  with  every  other  expression  of 
kindness.  In  short,  all  Naples  calls  me  '  Nostro 
Liberatore."  My  greeting  from  the  lower  classes  was 
truly  affecting.  I  hope  some  day  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  introducing  you  to  Lady  Hamilton;  she  is  one  of 
the  very  best  women  in  this  world,  she  is  an  honour 


218  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

to  her  sex.  Her  kindness,  with  Sir  William's  to  me, 
is  more  than  I  can  express.  I  am  in  their  house,  and  I 
may  now  tell  you  it  required  all  the  kindness  of  my 
friends  to  set  me  up.  Lady  Hamilton  intends  writing 
to  you.  God  bless  you !  " 

Little  did  Nelson  yet  reck  of  the  ironies  of  the 
future.  In  this  very  letter  he  uses  the  warmest  ex- 
pressions about  his  wife  that  had  as  yet  appeared  in  any 
of  his  letters.  Had  he  pursued  his  first  intention  of 
proceeding  from  Egypt  to  Syracuse,  how  much,  be- 
sides Naples,  might  have  been  avoided !  Was  he  even 
now  face  to  face  with  a  passionate  conflict  ? 

During  the  twenty-three  days  that  Nelson  remained 
ashore,  much  happened  besides  rejoicing,  and  much 
had  to  be  done.  Not  only  did  Nelson's  wound  (like 
his  battered  ships)  require  instant  attention,  but,  as  con- 
stantly happened  with  him,  the  protracted  strain  of 
nervous  effort  was  followed  by  a  severe  fever.  Lady 
Hamilton  and  her  mother  tended  him;  a  brief  visit 
with  the  Hamiltons  to  Castellamare,  where  Troubridge 
was  refitting  the  maimed  vessels,  and  a  diet  of  "  asses' 
milk  "  did  much  to  mend  his  general  health.  Nor  was 
it  to  him  alone  that  Emma,  herself  ailing,  ministered. 
Sir  William  was  exhausted.  The  Queen  was  ill  and 
miserable  under  the  troubles  gathering  both  at  Malta 
and  in  the  council-chamber;  Captain  Ball  also  needed 
her  care,  which  he  requited  with  an  enthusiastic  let- 
ter of  thanks  to  "  the  best  friend  and  patroness  of  the 
British  Navy  " ;  Troubridge,  too,  was  far  from  well  at 
Castellamare ;  many  were  in  hospital.  But  Lady  Ham- 
ilton owned  the  strength  of  highly-strung  natures — the 
strength  of  spurts ;  and  she  found  time  and  energy  for 
all  her  tasks. 

These  good  offices  are  here  mentioned,  among  many 
more  remaining  for  subsequent  mention,  because,  in  the 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  219 

future,  after  the  fatal  dividing  line  of  her  triumphal 
progress  to  Vienna  with  the  Queen,  her  husband,  and 
Nelson,  they  were  all  forgotten.  She  was  to  estrange 
some  of  her  old  admirers,  who  inveighed  against  her 
behind  her  back  not  only  as  ill-bred,  but  as  artful. 
Beckford,  for  instance,  who  had  hitherto  praised  her 
highly,  became  unkindly  critical  on  her  second  visit  to 
Fonthill  in  1801 ;  Miss  Knight,  her  firm  ally  at  this 
moment,  turned  the  reverse  of  friendly.  Troubridge 
(the  baker's  son,  beloved  and  promoted  by  Nelson), 
who  throughout  had  supported  her,  grew  obstinate  in 
antagonism  both  to  her  and  him;  while  the  seemly 
Elliots  were  shocked  at  her  loudness  and  scorn  of  con- 
venances. Even  the  Queen's  ardour  cooled;  and  the 
English  official  world  began  to  look  askance  at  the 
trio,  and  to  make  merry  over  Samson  and  Delilah. 

Nelson's  birthday  gave  full  scope  for  a  colossal 
demonstration  at  the  English  Embassy.  Emma's  huge 
assembly,  where  royalty  and  all  the  cream  of  society 
presided,  was  hardly  an  enjoyment  for  the  worn  con- 
queror. A  "  rostral  column  "  of  the  classical  pattern, 
with  inscriptions  celebrating  his  achievements,  had 
been  erected  in  the  gay  garden  festooned  with  lamps, 
and  alive  with  music.  The  artistic  Miss  Cornelia 
Knight  (with  her  mother,  a  refugee  from  the  terrors 
of  war  at  Rome)  added  one  more  ode  to  the  foreign 
thousands,  and  made  a  sketch  of  the  scene.  The  festiv- 
ity was  chequered  by  Josiah  Nisbet,  Nelson's  scape- 
grace but  petted  stepson,  who  brawled  with  him  in  his 
cups,  until  Troubridge  parted  them,  and  ended  the  in- 
decent scuffle.  That  this  arose  from  his  habits,  and 
not  of  design,  is  shown  by  Emma's  affectionate  refer- 
ences to  him  in  her  letter  to  his  mother  only  four  days 
afterwards. 

Nelson  was  dispirited,  and  disgusted  not  only  with 
the  "  fiddlers  "  and  loose  dames  of  the  court,  but  with 


220  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

its  finicking  petit  mditre,  Gallo,  the  foreign  minister,  all 
airs  and  pouncet;  so  afraid  lest  the  wind  should  step 
between  him  and  his  nobility,  that,  solemn  over  trifles, 
he  persistently  dallied  with  the  grave  issues  now  at 
stake.  The  halting  Acton  himself  proved  energetic 
mainly  in  professions,  though  by  the  end  of  October 
Emma  had  won  him  also  to  their  side.  Not  only  had 
the  "  Grand  Knights  "  of  Malta,  Hompesch  the  master, 
and  Wittig,  shown  the  white  feather  at  Valetta,  and 
left  the  French  practically  masters  of  the  field,  but  in 
the  Romagna  and  in  Tuscany  the  enemy  was  daily  gain- 
ing ground.  Moreover,  while  the  Queen  was  reassured 
as  to  the  goodwill  of  the  middle  class  and  the  Laz- 
zaroni,  she  now  realised,  as  may  be  gathered  from  her 
letters,  that  the  various  factions  of  the  nobles  were 
— from  separate  motives — a  nest  of  perfidy.  Her  hus- 
band trounced  her  as  the  cause  of  his  woes,  and  despite 
his  enthusiasm  for  the  "  hero,"  he  remained  in  the 
Anglophobe  party's  clutches.  The  delaying  Gallo  was 
averse  to  open  hostilities  until  Austria  had  engaged  in 
offensive  alliance,  for  the  compact  (which  had  been 
signed  in  July)  only  promised  Austrian  aid  in  the 
event  of  Naples  itself  being  attacked.  Russia  had  de- 
clared, the  Porte  was  on  the  verge  of  declaring,  war 
against  the  French  Republic.  The  preceding  May  had 
seen  yet  another  treaty  between  both  these  powers  and 
Naples,  binding  the  latter  to  furnish  twelve  ships  and 
four  hundred  men  for  the  coalition.  Yet  the  Emperor, 
son-in-law  to  the  Neapolitan  Bourbons,  still  waited, 
and  on  him  the  King  of  Naples  waited  also,  much  more 
concerned  with  the  impending  birth  of  a  grandchild 
who  might  inherit  the  throne,  than  with  the  portents  of 
affairs.  His  disposition  shunned  reality,  notwithstand- 
ing the  fact,  however,  that  he  had  sanctioned  the  sum- 
mons of  General  Mack  from  Vienna  to  command  his 
forces.  And,  added  to  all  these  manifold  preoccupa- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  221 

tions,  Lady  Spencer,  who  had  acclaimed  Nelson's  tri- 
umph with  "  Hurrah,  hurrah,  hurrah,"  the  wife  of  the 
first  Lord  of  the  British  Admiralty,  was  now  at  Naples, 
and  constantly  with  the  Hamiltons  and  Nelson. 

From  late  September  to  early  October  Nelson  and 
Emma  were  in  frequent  conference.  The  French  had 
been  attempting  in  Ireland  what  they  had  succeeded  in 
doing  at  Naples :  their  complots  with  rebellion  threat- 
ened all  that  was  established. 

He  divined  the  situation  in  its  European  bearings 
at  a  glance.  She  knew  every  twist  and  turn  of  the 
Neapolitan  road,  with  all  its  buffoons,  adventurers,  and 
highwaymen;  the  tact  of  quick  experience  was  hers. 
He,  the  masculine  genius,  created.  She,  the  feminine, 
was  receptive,  interpretative.  And,  whatever  may  be 
urged  or  moralised,  the  human  fact  remains  that  she 
was  a  woman  after  his  own  heart,  and  he  a  man  after 
hers.  He  was  the  first  unselfish  man  who  had  as  yet 
been  closely  drawn  towards  her.  However  unlike  in 
upbringing,  in  environment,  in  standing — above  all,  in 
things  of  the  spirit,  in  passionate  energy,  in  courage,  in 
romance,  in  "  sensibility  "  and  enthusiasm  they  were 
affinities. 

The  result  of  these  consultations  is  shown  by  the 
long  draft  of  a  letter  outlining  a  policy,  which  Nelson 
drew  up  as  a  lever  for  Emma  herself  to  force  the 
court  into  decision,  and  which  formed  the  basis  of  a 
shorter  letter  that  has  been  published.  He  emphasised 
"  the  anxiety  which  you  and  Sir  William  have  always 
had  for  the  happiness  and  welfare  of  their  Sicilian 
Majesties."  He  pointed  out  that  the  mass  of  the 
Neapolitans  were  loyally  eager  to  try  conclusions  with 
France;  that  Naples  was  her  natural  "plunder,"  but 
that  the  ministers  were  "  lulled  into  a  false  security," 
and  a  prey  "  to  the  worst  of  all  policies,  that  of  pro- 
crastination." He  dwelt  on  Carat's  insolence,  and 


222  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

the  readiness  of  the  Neapolitan  army  to  march  into 
the  Romagna  "  ready  to  receive  them."  He  hoped 
that  Mack's  imminent  arrival  would  brace  ministers 
into  resolution.  He  welcomed  with  admiring  respect  a 
"  dignified "  letter  from  the  Queen,  according  with 
his  own  favourite  quotation  from  Chatham,  "  the  bold- 
est measures  are  the  safest."  He  presented  his  mani- 
festo as  a  "  preparitive "  and  as  "  the  unalterable 
opinion  of  a  British  Admiral  anxious  to  approve  him- 
self a  faithful  servant  to  his  sovereign  by  doing 
everything  in  his  power  for  the  happiness  and  dignity 
of  their  Sicilian  Majesties."  To  Sir  William  he 
would  write  separately.  He  recognised  the  signs  of 
revolution,  and  already  he  sounded  the  note  of  warn- 
ing. He  recommended  that  their  "  persons  and  prop- 
erty "  should  be  ready  in  case  of  need  for  embarkation 
at  the  shortest  notice.  If  "  the  present  ruinous  sys- 
tem of  procrastination  "  persevered,  it  would  be  his 
"  duty  "  to  provide  for  the  safety  not  only  of  the  Ham- 
iltons,  but  of  "  the  amiable  Queen  of  these  kingdoms 
and  her  family." 

The  address  of  this  paper  to  Emma,  the  emphasis 
of  the  Queen's  letter,  the  promise  of  a  separate  one  to 
Hamilton,  show  that  the  document  was  intended  for 
the  Queen's  eye  alone,  and  point  to  the  suggestion  of 
it  by  Emma  herself.  We  shall  see  that  while  Sir 
William  was  pushing  affairs  with  the  English  Gov- 
ernment, Emma,  during  Nelson's  absence  in  the  Adri- 
atic and  the  Mediterranean,  was  practically  to  be  Am- 
bassador at  Naples. 

Next  day  Nelson  ordered  Ball  to  Malta  with  the  ex- 
pressed objects  not  only  of  intercepting  French  com- 
munications with  Egypt,  of  the  island's  blockade,  and 
of  co-operation  with  the  Turkish  and  Russian  fleets  in 
the  Archipelago,  but  specially  of  protecting  the  Sicilian 
and  Neapolitan  coasts.  So  annoyed  was  he  at  the 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  223 

King's  inaction,  that  he  even  told  Lord  Spencer  that 
"  Naples  sees  this  squadron  no  more,  except  the  King," 
who  is  losing  "  the  glorious  moments,"  "  calls  for  our 
help."  By  mid-October  Nelson  himself  had  set  out 
first  for  Malta,  and,  after  a  brief  interval  of  return,  for 
the  deliverance  of  Leghorn.  Before  the  month's  close 
the  King  and  General  Mack  had  started  on  their  ill- 
starred  campaign;  before  the  year's  end  a  definitive 
Anglo-Sicilian  alliance  had  been  signed,  and  Gren- 
ville's  former  attitude  reversed. 

The  very  day  of  Nelson's  departure  drew  from  him 
the  tribute  to  Lady  Hamilton  which  was  in  Pettigrew's 
possession,  and  a  facsimile  of  which  accompanied  the 
first  volume  of  his  Memoirs  of  Lord  Nelson. 

"  I  honour  and  respect  you,"  it  ran,  "  and  my  dear 
friend  Sir  William  Hamilton,  and  believe  me  ever  your 
faithful  and  affectionate  Nelson  " — the  first  letter,  as 
"  his  true  friend  "  Emma  recorded  on  it,  written  to 
her  "  after  his  dignity  to  the  peerage." 

The  girl  who,  after  the  bartering  Greville  trampled 
upon  her  affections,  had  been  gained  into  grateful  at- 
tachment by  Hamilton,  with  the  covert  resolve  of  be- 
coming his  wife  and  winning  her  spurs  in  the  political 
tournament,  had  at  length  carved  a  career.  Greville's 
neglect  of  her  self-sacrifice  had  not  hardened  her,  but 
her  tender  care  of  Sir  William  was  fast  assuming  a 
new  complexion.  She  had  twice  saved  his  life;  she 
had  perpetually  urged  his  activities;  she  still  watched 
over  him.  But,  under  her  standards  of  instinct  and 
experience,  she  was  half  gravitating  towards  the  per- 
suasion that  they  might  warrant  her  in  taking  her  fate 
into  her  own  hands.  She  hated  "half  measures"; 
neck  or  nothing,  she  would  realise  herself.  Her  chief 
cravings  remained  as  yet  unsatisfied.  Womanlike,  she 
had  yearned  for  true  sympathy.  Here  was  one  willing 
and  eager  to  listen.  She  had  long  been  in  love  with 


224  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

glory.  Here  was  a  hero  who  personified  it.  She  had 
sighed  for  adventures  in  the  grand  style.  Here  was 
opportunity.  She  wavered  on  the  verge  of  a  new 
temptation.  She  felt  as  though  her  wandering  soul 
had  at  last  found  its  way.  Yet,  in  reality,  she  still 
groped  in  a  maze  of  contending  emotions,  nor  would 
she  stop  to  inquire  by  what  clue  her  quick  steps  were 
hurrying  her:  the  moment  was  all  in  all.  She  still 
identified  her  intense  friendship  with  her  husband's. 
Disloyalty  still  revolted  her  in  its  masked  approaches; 
and  yet  she  struggled,  half -consciously,  with  a  "  faith 
unfaithful  "  that  was  to  keep  her  "  falsely  true." 

Omitting  further  historical  detail,  we  may  turn  at 
once  to  the  part  played  by  Emma  with  the  Queen  at 
Caserta  as  her  hero's  vice-gerent  during  his  nine  weeks' 
absence.  Her  heart  was  with  the  ships,  and  she  pined 
to  quit  the  villeggiatura  for  Naples. 

It  was,  in  her  own  words,  with  Nelson's  "  spirit  " 
that  Emma  inflamed  the  Queen,  from  whom  she  was 
now  inseparable.  The  King  still  looked  to  Austria, 
and  thought  of  little  else  but  his  daughter-in-law's 
coming  confinement.  The  Queen,  who  had  hesitated, 
at  last  caught  the  promptness  of  Nelson's  policy.  Gen- 
eral Mack  had  arrived,  but  a  thousand  official  obstacles 
impeded  his  preparations.  "  He  does  not  go  to  visit 
the  frontiers,"  wrote  Emma  to  Nelson,  "  but  is  now 
working  night  and  day,  and  then  goes  for  good,  and  I 
tell  her  Majesty,  for  God's  sake,  for  the  country's 
sake,  and  for  your  own  sake,  send  him  off  as  soon  as 
possible,  no  time  to  be  lost,  and  I  believe  he  goes  after 
to-morrow."  The  suppression  of  the  Irish  rebellion 
had  removed  yet  another  spoke  from  the  Republican 
wheel.  "  I  translate  from  our  papers,"  said  Emma, 
"  to  inspire  her  or  them,  I  should  say,  with  some  of 
your  spirit  and  energy.  How  delighted  we  both  were 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  225 

to  speak  of  you.  She  loves,  respects,  and  admires  you. 
For  myself,  I  will  leave  you  to  guess  my  feelings.  Poor 
dear  Troubridge  stayed  that  night  with  us  to  com- 
fort us.  What  a  goo'd  dear  soul  he  is.  ...  He  is  to 
come  down  soon,  and  I  am  to  present  him.  She  sees 
she  could  not  feel  happy  if  she  had  not  an  English  ship 
here  to  send  off.  .  .  .  How  we  abused  Gallo  yester- 
day. How  she  hates  him.  He  won't  reign  long — 
so  much  the  better.  .  .  .  You  are  wanted  at  Caserta. 
All  their  noddles  are  not  worth  yours."  There  were 
affectionate  mentions  of  Tyson  and  Hardy,  with  the 
hope  that  the  "  Italian  spoil-stomach  sauce  of  a  dirty 
Neapolitan  "  might  not  hurt  the  invalid,  but  that  per- 
haps Nelson's  steward  provided  him  "  with  John  Bull's 
Roast  and  Boil."  Then  followed  her  enthusiasm  over 
Nelson's  honours,  and  her  wrath  at  the  stint  of  home 
recognition,  which  have  been  echoed  already.  In  the 
same  long  letter,  containing,  as  was  her  wont,  the  diary 
of  a  week,  she  resumes  her  political  story.  She  and 
her  Queen  had  been  ecstatic  over  the  Sultan's  lavish  ac- 
knowledgments of  Nelson's  victory. 

"The  Queen  says  that,  after  the  English  she  loves 
the  Turks,  and  she  has  reason,  for,  as  to  Vienna,  the 
ministers  deserve  to  be  hanged,  and  if  Naples  is  saved, 
no  thanks  to  the  Emperor.  For  he  is  kindly  leaving 
his  father  in  the  lurch.  We  have  been  two  days  des- 
perate on  account  of  the  weak  and  cool  acting  of  the 
Cabinet  of  Vienna.  Thugut  must  be  gained;  but  the 
Emperor — oh,  but  he  is  a  poor  sop,  a  machine  in  the 
hands  .of  his  corrupted  ministers.  The  Queen  is  in  a 
rage.  .  .  .  Sunday  last,  two  couriers,  one  from  Lon- 
don, one  from  Vienna;  the  first  with  the  lovely  news 
of  a  fleet  to  remain  in  the  Mediterranean,  and  a  treaty 
made  of  the  most  flattering  kind  for  Naples.  In  short, 
everything  amicable  .  .  .  and  most  truly  honourable. 
T'other  from  their  dear  son  and  daughter,  cold,  un- 


226 

friendly,  mistrustful,  Frenchified;  and  saying  plainly, 
help  yourselves.  How  the  dear  Maria  Carolina  cried 
for  joy  at  the  one  and  rage  at  the  other.  But  Mack 
is  gone  to  the  army  to  prepare  all  to  march  immedi- 
ately." And  here,  too,  is  the  place  of  that  dramatic 
outburst,  cited  in  the  Prelude,  where  Emma  extended 
her  left  arm,  like  Nelson,  and  "  painted  the  drooping 
situation,"  stimulating  the  Queen's  decision  in  face  of 
those  hampering  obstacles  on  the  part  of  Gallo  and  the 
King,  which  proved  so  unconscionable  a  time  in  dying. 
"  In  short,  there  was  a  council,  and  it  was  decided  to 
march  out  and  help  themselves;  and,  sure,  their  poor 
fool  of  a  son  will  not,  cannot  but  come  out.  He  must 
bring  150,000  men  in  the  Venetian  State.  The  French 
could  be  shut  in  between  the  two  armies,  Italy  cleared, 
and  peace  restored.  I  saw  a  person  from  Milan  yes- 
terday, who  says  that  a  small  army  would  do,  for  the 
Milanese  have  had  enough  of  liberty."  She  depicts  the 
horrid  state  of  that  capital,  the  starvation  side  by  side 
with  the  rampant  licentiousness  of  the  Jacobins  "  put- 
ting Virtue  out  of  countenance  by  their  .  .  .  libertin- 
age.  .  .  .  So,  you  see,  a  little  would  do.  Now  is  the 
moment,  and,  indeed,  everything  is  going  on  as  we 
could  wish."  Emma  has  ,been  hitherto  and  often 
painted  as  the  Queen's  mouthpiece.  She  was  really 
Nelson's,  and  her  intuition  had  grasped  his  mastership 
of  the  political  prospect.  Was  she  not  right  in  de- 
claring that  she  had  "  spurred  them  on  "  ?  The  Queen 
had  been  actually  heartened  into  resolving  on  a 
regency,  a  new  fact  which  reveals  the  political  di- 
vergences between  the  royal  pair  at  this  period.  '  The 
King  is  to  go  in  a  few  days,  never  to  return.  The 
regency  is  to  be  in  the  name  of  the  Prince  Royal,  but 
the  Queen  will  direct  all.  Her  head  is  worth  a  thou- 
sand. I  have  a  pain  in  my  head,  .  .  .  and  must  go 
take  an  airing.  .  .  .  May  you  live  long,  long,  long 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  227 

for  the  sake  of  your  country,  your  King,  your  family, 
all  Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  and  America  [Emma  is  on 
her  stilts  once  more],  and  for  the  scourge  of  France, 
but  particularly  for  the  happiness  of  Sir  William  and 
self,  who  love  you,  admire  you,  and  glory  in  your 
friendship."  Sir  William's  new  name  for  Nelson  was 
now  "  the  friend  of  our  hearts."  And  these  hearts 
were  certainly  stamped  with  his  image : — "  Your  statue 
ought  to  be  made  of  pure  gold  and  placed  in  the  mid- 
dle of  London.  Never,  never  was  there  such  a  battle, 
and  if  you  are  not  regarded  as  you  ought  and  I  wish, 
I  will  renounce  my  country  and  become  either  a 
Mameluke  or  a  Turk.  The  Queen  yesterday  said  to 
me,  the  more  I  think  on  it,  the  greater  I  find  it,  and  I 
feel  such  gratitude  to  the  warrior,  .  .  .  my  respect  is 
such,  that  I  could  fall  at  his  honoured  feet  and  kiss 
them.  You  that  know  us  both,  and  how  alike  we  are 
in  many  things,  that  is,  I  as  Emma  Hamilton,  she  as 
Queen  of  Naples,  imagine  us  both  speaking  of  you. 
...  I  would  not  be  a  lukewarm  friend  for  the  world. 
I  ...  cannot  make  friendships  with  all,  but  the  few 
friends  I  have,  I  would  die  for  them.  ...  I  told  her 
Majesty  we  only  wanted  Lady  Nelson  to  be  the  female 
Tria  juncta  in  uno,  for  we  all  love  you,  and  yet  all 
three  differently,  and  yet  all  equally,  if  you  can  make 
that  out."  .  .  .  And  Lady  Nelson,  accordingly,  she 
congratulated  twice,  both  on  the  Queen's  behalf  and 
her  own. 

Nelson  returned  for  a  fortnight  in  the  earlier  days 
of  November,  more  than  ever  dissatisfied  with  the 
Neapolitan  succours  and  the  Portuguese  co-operation 
at  Malta.  There,  with  strong  significance  in  view  of 
next  year's  crisis  at  Naples,  he  had  notified  the  French, 
who  rejected  his  overtures,  that  he  would  certainly  dis- 
regard any  capitulation  into  which  the  Maltese  General 
might  afterwards  be  forced  to  enter.  He  learned  the 

Memoirs— Vol.  14 — 8 


228  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

decision  for  definite  war,  and  the  King's  reluctant  con- 
sent at  length  to  accompany  the  army  to  Rome.  No 
sooner  had  Garat  been  dismissed,  than  the  French  de- 
clared war  also.  Force,  then,  must  repel  force,  for 
the  Ligurian  Republic  meant  nothing  but  France  in 
Italy.  Throughout,  moreover,  Nelson's  guiding  aim 
was  the  destruction  of  Jacobinism,  which,  indeed,  he 
regarded  as  anti-Christ.  He  collected  his  forces  and 
set  out  for  Leghorn,  which  soon  surrendered  (although 
Buonaparte's  brother  Louis  escaped  the  blockade), 
landing  once  more  at  Naples  in  the  first  week  of  De- 
cember. At  first  Mack  and  the  Neapolitan  troops  pre- 
vailed, and  Prince  Moliterno's  valour  covered  the 
cowardice  of  his  troops.  The  King  entered  Rome; 
the  Queen's  mercurial  hopes  ran  high.  But  her  ex- 
ultation was  short-lived.  Before  the  end  of  the  first 
week  in  December  Carolina  wrote  to  her  confidante 
that  she  now  pitied  the  King  intensely,  and  "  would  be 
with  him/'  "  God  only  knows  what  evils  are  in  re- 
serve. I  am  deeply  affected  by  it,  and  expect  every 
day  something  more  terrible.  The  good  only  will  be 
the  victims.  .  .  .  Mack  is  in  despair,  and  has  rea- 
son to  be  so."  The  French  Berthier  proved  an  abler, 
though  not  a  braver,  general  than  the  Austrian,  but 
Mack  had  raw  and  wretched  levies  under  his  com- 
mand ;  his  officers  were  bribed  and  their  men  deserted. 
Rome  was  retaken;  a  retreat  became  unavoidable,  and 
by  the  second  week  in  December  that  retreat  had  al- 
ready become  a  rout.  From  the  close  of  November 
onwards  the  Queen  grew  more  and  more  despondent, 
though  Duckworth's  naval  success  at  Minorca,  the 
promise  by  the  Czar  Paul  of  his  fleet,  and  the  retire- 
ment of  the  Republicans  from  Frosinone  had  cheered 
her.  She  was  very  ill,  and  fresh  home  conspiracies 
were  in  course  of  discovery. 

Emma  still  lingered  in  her  neighbourhood  at  Caserta. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  229 

Beseeching  Nelson  not  to  go  ashore  at  Leghorn,  and 
rejoicing  at  the  unfounded  rumour  that  his  "  dear,  ven- 
erable father  "  had  been  made  a  bishop,  she  informed 
him  that  the  King  had  at  length  issued  a  clear  mani- 
festo. The  army  had  marched,  the  Queen  had  just 
gone  to  pray  for  them  in  the  cathedral.  She  announced 
the  King's  triumphal  entry  into  Rome  from  Frascati; 
she  hoped  the  best  from  the  battle  of  Velletri,  fought 
even  as  she  writes.  "  Everybody  here,"  she  assured 
Nelson,  "  prays  for  you.  Even  the  Neapolitans  say 
mass  for  you,  but  Sir  William  and  I  are  so  anxious 
that  we  neither  eat,  drink,  nor  sleep ;  and  till  you  are 
safely  landed  and  come  back  we  shall  feel  mad."  The 
secret  of  Nelson's  movements  and  preparations  she 
will  never  betray,  nor  would  red-hot  torture  wrest  it 
from  her.  "  We  send  you  one  of  your  midshipmen, 
left  here  by  accident;  .  .  .  pray  don't  punish  him. 
Oh !  I  had  forgot  I  would  never  ask  favours,  but  you 
are  so  good  I  cannot  help  it."  And  then  follows  a  tell- 
tale passage :  "  We  have  got  Josiah.  How  glad  I  was 
to  see  him.  Lady  Knight,  Miss  Knight,  Carrol,  and 
Josiah  dined  to-day  with  us,  but  alas!  your  place  at 
table  was  occupied  by  Lady  K.  I  could  have  cried, 
I  felt  so  low-spirited." 

Is  it  a  wonder  that  Nelson  was  moved?  One  can 
hear  how  her  confidence  impressed  him.  Shortly  after 
his  return  he  frankly  avowed,  "  My  situation  in  this 
country  has  had,  doubtless,  one  rose,  but  it  has  been 
plucked  from  a  bed  of  thorns."  This,  then,  was  no 
waxen  camellia,  but  a  rose  whose  fresh  scent  contrasted 
with  the  hot  atmosphere  of  the  court  and  the  prickles 
of  perpetual  vexation. 

The  reader  must  judge  whether  such  efforts  and 
appeals,  this  developing  energy  and  tenderness,  were 
the  manoeuvres  of  craft.  It  is  patent  from  the  corre- 
spondence that  Emma's  inter jectional  letters,  which 


230  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

think  aloud,  answer  epistles  from  Nelson  of  even 
tenor.  A  comparison,  moreover,  with  her  girlish 
epistles  to  Greville  shows  a  sameness  of  quality  that 
will  stand  the  same  test.  She  remains  "  the  same 
Emma." 

Nelson  rejoined  the  Hamiltons  at  a  critical  moment. 
His  wise  forecast  that  unless  Ferdinand  and  Maria 
coveted  the  fate  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette, 
flight  alone  could  save  them,  was  fast  being  justified. 
The  nobles,  jealous  of  English  influence,  were  now 
thoroughly  disaffected.  Gathering  reverses  incensed 
a  populace  that  was  only  too  likely  to  be  frenzied 
should  their  King  prefer  escape  Sicilyward  to  trust  in 
their  tried  loyalty.  As  yet  Naples  had  been  free  from 
the  French,  but  the  likelihood  of  invasion  grew  daily; 
and  even  in  June  Neapolitan  neutrality  had  been  known 
to  be  merely  nominal.  The  proud  Queen,  as  we  shall 
find  when  the  dreaded  moment  arrived,  would  rather 
have  welcomed  death  than  retreat.  But  Acton,  at 
present  in  Rome,  had  slowly  come  to  concur  with  the 
trio  of  the  Embassy. 

The  melodrama  of  the  actual  escape,  on  which  new 
manuscripts  cast  fresh  lights,  must  be  reserved  for  a 
separate  chapter.  "  The  devil  take  most  Kings  and 
Queens,  I  say,  for  they  are  shabbier  than  their  sub- 
jects !  "  had  been  Sir  Joseph  Banks's  exclamation  to  Sir 
William  Hamilton  in  1795.  At  this  present  end  of 
1798  the  devil  (or  Buonaparte)  proved  especially  busy 
in  this  particular  branch  of  his  business. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

FLIGHT 


IT  is  clear  all  along  that  Emma  chafed  against 
vegetation.  Tameness  and  sameness  wearied  her, 
and  she  longed  for  historical  adventures.  She 
had  now  lit  on  a  thrilling  one  indeed.  To  aid  in  plan- 
ning, preparing,  deciding,  and  executing  a  royal  escape 
in  the  midst  of  revolution,  on  the  brink  of  invasion, 
and  at  the  risk  of  life,  was  a  task  the  romance  and 
the  danger  of  which  allured  her  dramatic  fancy.  That 
it  did  not  repeat  the  blunders  of  Varennes  was  largely 
owing  to  Nelson's  foresight  and  her  own  indefatigable 
energy.  And  omens — for  they  each  believed  in  them — 
must  have  appeared  to  both.  Before  the  battle  of  the 
Nile  a  white  bird  had  perched  in  his  cabin.  He  and 
Emma  marked  the  same  white  bird  when  the  King  was 
restored  in  the  following  July ;  and  Nelson  always  de- 
clared that  he  saw  it  again  before  Copenhagen,  though 
it  was  missed  at  Trafalgar.  It  was  his  herald  of  vic- 
tory. Nor  under  the  auspices  of  triumph  was  death 
also  ever  absent  from  the  thoughts  of  the  man,  who 
accepted,  as  a  welcome  present  from  a  favoured  Cap- 
tain, the  coffin  made  from  a  mast  of  the  ruined 
L' Orient. 

For  flight  Emma  had  not  influenced  her  friend :  it 
was  Nelson's  project.  "  If  things  take  an  unfortunate 
turn  here,"  she  had  written  to  Nelson  two  months  be- 

231 


232  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

fore,  "  and  the  Queen  dies  at  her  post,  I  will  remain 
with  her.     If  she  goes,  I  follow  her." 

The  second  week  of  December  proved  to  the  Queen 
that  events  were  inexorable,  and  her  selfish  son-in-law 
cold  and  unmoved :  he  shifted  with  the  political 
barometer.  She  had  despatched  her  courier,  Rosen- 
heim,  to  Vienna,  but  he  only  returned  with  ill  tidings. 
Vienna  would  "  give  no  orders."  In  vain  she  sup- 
plicated her  daughter,  "  may  your  dear  husband  be  our 
saviour."  The  Emperor  flatly  refused  his  aid.  His 
subjects  now  desired  peace,  and  the  Neapolitans  must 
"  help  themselves."  If  Naples  were  assailed,  the 
Austrian  treaty,  it  is  true,  would  entitle  reinforcements 
from  Vienna.  But  even  so,  the  poorness  of  their 
troops,  and  the  grudging  inclination  of  their  ruler, 
left  the  issue  but  little  mended.  The  Queen  was  in 
despair.  The  French  excuse  for  war  had  been  the  al- 
leged breach  of  their  treaty  by  the  watering  of  the 
British  fleet.  A  threatening  army  of  invaders  was  al- 
ready known  to  be  on  its  way;  yet  still  she  hoped 
against  hope,  and  hesitated  over  the  final  plunge.  She 
despatched  Gallo  to  Vienna  to  beseech  her  son-in-law 
once  more.  She  cursed  the  treaty  of  Campoformio, 
to  which  she  attributed  the  whole  sad  sequel  of  dis- 
aster. She  vowed  that  her  own  kinsfolk  were  leagued 
together  in  spite  against  "  the  daughter "  and  the 
grandchildren  "  of  the  great  Maria  Theresa."  When 
the  news  fell  like  a  thunderbolt  that  Mack's  case  was 
desperate,  the  French  troops  in  occupation  of  Castel 
St.  Angelo,  and  her  husband  about  to  scurry  out  of 
Rome,  those  children  could  only  "  weep  and  pray." 
The  fact  that  the  Jacobins — the  "  right-minded,"  as 
they  already  styled  themselves — welcomed  each  crown- 
ing blow  as  a  help  to  their  cause,  heightened  the  humil- 
iation. The  Queen,  slighted  and  indignant,  betook 
herself  to  Nelson  and  to  Emma.  They  both  pressed 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  233 

anew  the  urgent  necessity  of  flight;  she  disdained  it. 
It  was  a  "  fresh  blow  to  her  soul  and  spirit  " ;  h«*-  orig- 
inal plan  had  been  to  have  gone  with  her  children  else- 
where. Its  bare  possibility  was  difficult  to  realise; 
and,  after  her  husband's  ashamed  return,  the  popular 
ferment  seemed  to  bar  its  very  execution.  She  dreaded 
a  repetition  of  Varennes.  In  the  midst  of  brawl  and 
tumult  the  King  returned,  and,  faltering,  showed  him- 
self on  his  balcony.  Lusty  shouts  of  "  You  will  not 
go !  We  will  deal  with  the  Jacobins !  "  burst  from  the 
surging  crowd.  A  spy  was  knifed  in  the  open  streets, 
and  the  false  nobles  cast  the  blame  on  the  Queen.  She 
should  be  held  blood-guilty.  In  bitter  agony  she  ap- 
prised her  daughter  that  death  was  preferable  to  such 
dishonour.  She  would  die  every  inch  a  Queen.  "  I 
have  renounced  this  world,"  wrote  Maria  Theresa's 
true  offspring,  "  I  have  renounced  my  reputation  as 
wife  and  mother.  I  am  preparing  to  die,  and  making 
ready  for  an  eternity  for  which  I  long.  This  is  all 
that  is  left  to  me."  Even  when  she  had  been  brought 
to  the  last  gasp  of  obeying  her  kind  friends  and  her 
hard  fate,  her  letters  to  Vienna  sound  the  tone  of  one 
stepping  to  the  scaffold.  While  the  furious  mob 
growled  and  groaned  outside,  her  last  requests  to  her 
daughter  were  for  her  husband  and  children.  On  the 
very  edge  of  her  secret  start,  the  advices  that  General 
Burchardt  had  marched  his  thousand  men,  if  not 
with  flying  colours,  at  least  in  fighting  trim,  so  far  as 
Isoletta,  may  have  once  more  made  her  rue  her  forced 
surrender. 

But  meanwhile  the  Hamiltons,  Nelson,  and  Acton 
were  in  determined  and  close  consultation,  with  Emma 
for  Nelson's  interpreter.  The  establishment  of  the 
Ligurian  Republic  had  for  some  time  boded  the  cer- 
tainty of  Buonaparte's  designs  against  the  Two  Sicilies. 
The  General  had  at  first  written  to  Sir  William  with 


234  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

some  sang-froid  of  the  "  troublesome  and  dangerous 
circumstances  "  of  the  "  crisis,"  but  within  a  few  days 
he  was  a  zealous  co-operator.  Nelson,  above  all  men, 
would  never  have  counselled  a  base  desertion.  But  he 
knew  the  real  circumstances,  the  general  perfidy,  the 
Austrian  weakness,  both  playing  into  the  hands  of  the 
French.  Already,  to  his  knowledge,  the  aggressor's 
footfall  was  audible,  and,  after  General  Mack's  fiasco, 
no  resources  were  left  at  home.  His  firm  resolve  was 
to  await  the  moment  when  he  might  deal  a  fresh 
death-blow  to  Buonaparte,  and  meanwhile  to  seize  the 
first  opportunity  for  crushing  the  Neapolitan  Jacobins 
and  reinstating  the  Neapolitan  King.  For  him  the 
cause  symbolised  not  despotism  against  freedom,  not 
the  progress  from  law  to  liberty,  but  discipline  and 
patriotism  against  license  and  anarchy.  He  had  sum- 
moned ships  to  protect  the  Vanguard:  the  Culloden 
with  Troubridge  from  the  north  and  west  coasts  of 
Italy,  the  Goliath  from  off  Malta,  the  Alcmene  under 
Captain  Hope  from  Egypt.  After  ordering  the  block- 
ade of  Genoa,  he  had  ironically  asked  if  the  King  was 
at  war  with  its  flag.  He  had  foreseen  that  "  within 
six  months  the  Neapolitan  Republic  would  be  armed, 
organised,  and  called  forth,"  that  malingering  Austria 
was  herself  in  extremis. 

They  urged  the  Queen  to  prepare  for  the  worst ;  and 
from  December  17  onwards,  while  their  measures  were 
being  concerted,  Emma  superintended  the  gradual 
transport  from  the  palace  of  valuables  both  private  and 
public.  The  process  occupied  her  night  and  day  for 
nearly  a  week,  and  required  the  strictest  secrecy  and 
caution.  Some  she  may  have  fetched,  some  she  re- 
ceived, many  she  stowed. 

Criticism,  biassed,  may  be,  by  anxiety  to  impugn 
Emma's  latest  memorial,  makes  much  of  evidence  in  a 
few  isolated  letters,  indicating  that  the  Queen  for- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  235 

warded  some  of  her  effects  by  trusted  messengers,  and 
omitting  that  Emma  caused  any  herself  to  be  carried 
from  the  palace  to  the  Embassy.  The  detail  is  not 
very  material,  since  her  assistance  is  evident,  even  if 
her  memory  enlarged  it.  The  very  bulk  of  the  many 
chests  and  boxes  to  be  removed  was  to  cause  a  danger- 
ous delay  in  the  eventual  voyage.  They  were  con- 
veyed in  different  ways,  some  on  shipboard  (among 
them  the  public  treasure),  others,  including  jewels  and 
linen,  by  the  hands  of  the  servant  Saverio;  others 
again  to  be  transported  by  Emma  herself.  The  Queen, 
in  one  of  her  almost  hourly  notes,  expressly  hoped  that 
she  was  not  "  indiscreet  in  sending  these,"  thereby  sug- 
gesting that  various  means  of  conveyance  had  been  used 
for  some  of  the  rest.  In  another,  too,  she  excused  her- 
self for  her  "  abuse  of  your  kindnesses  and  that  of  our 
brave  Admiral."  Nelson's  official  account  to  Lord  St. 
Vincent  stated  that  "  Lady  Hamilton  "  from  Decem- 
ber 14  to  21  "  received  the  jewels,  etc."  Emma's  own 
recital  to  Greville,  less  than  a  fortnight  after  the  ter- 
rors of  the  journey  were  past,  included  as  the  least  of 
her  long  fatigues  that  "  for  six  nights  before  the  em- 
barkation "  she  "  sat  up  "  at  her  own  house  "  receiving 
all  the  jewels,  money  and  effects  of  the  royal  family, 
and  from  thence  conveying  them  on  board  the  Van- 
guard, living  in  fear  of  being  torn  to  pieces  by  the 
tumultuous  mob,  who  suspected  our  departure,"  but 
"  Sir  William  and  I  being  beloved  in  the  Country  saved 
us."  Sir  William  himself  informed  Greville  that 
"  Emma  has  had  a  very  principal  part  in  this  delicate 
business,  as  she  is,  and  has  been  for  several  years 
the  real  and  only  confidential  friend  of  the  Queen  of 
Naples." 

In  the  pathos  of  the  Queen's  letters  to  Emma  resides 
their  true  interest.  Maria  Carolina's  anguish  in- 
creased as  the  plot  for  her  preservation  thickened ;  she 


236  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

clung  piteously  to  the  strong  arms  of  Emma  and  Nel- 
son, who  really  managed  the  whole  business.  Sobs 
and  tears,  paroxysms  of  scorn  and  sighs  of  rage  more 
and  more  pervade  them,  as  one  by  one  the  strongholds 
of  her  country  yield  or  are  captured.  She  is  "  the 
most  unfortunate  of  Queens,  mothers,  women,  but 
Emma's  sincerest  friend."  It  is  to  her  "  habitually  " 
that  she  "  opens  her  heart."  Emma's  indorsements 
may  serve  as  an  index : — "  My  adorable,  unfortunate 
Queen.  God  bless  and  protect  her  and  her  august 
family."  "  Dear,  dear  Queen  "  —  "  Unfortunate 
Queen."  More  than  a  month  earlier  she  had  protested 
to  Nelson  her  readiness,  if  need  be,  to  accompany  her 
to  the  block.  One  of  these  billets  tristes  of  the  Queen 
to  her  friend  encloses  a  little  blue-printed  picture.  It 
is  an  elegiac.  A  wreathed  Amorino  pipes  mournfully 
beside  a  cypress-shadowed  tomb,  behind  which  two 
Cupids  are  carelessly  dancing :  on  the  tomb  is  inscribed 
"  Embarque  je  vous  en  prie.  M.  C." — Emma's  mel- 
ancholy refrain  to  the  would-be  martyr. 

Prince  Belmonte,  now  chamberlain,  acted  as  the 
King's  agent  with  Caracciolo  in  effecting  a  scheme  full 
of  difficulty,  owing  to  the  great  number  of  the  refugees, 
the  ridiculous  etiquette  of  precedences,  insisted  on  even 
at  such  an  hour,  the  vast  quantity  of  their  united  bag- 
gage, the  avowed  designs  of  the  French  Directory,  the 
covert  conspiracies  of  false  courtiers  in  which  the  War 
Minister  himself  was  implicated,  the  fierceness  of  pop- 
ular tumult,  and  the  Jacobin  spies  who  kept  a  sharp 
lookout  on  Nelson,  but  were  foiled  by  Emma's  and  the 
Queen's  adroitness. 

The  plan  originally  concerted  was  as  follows.  The 
escape  was  to  happen  on  the  night  of  the  2Oth.  After 
the  last  instalments  of  treasure  and  detachments  of 
foreigners  had  been  safely  and  ceremoniously  depos- 
ited on  board  their  several  vessels,  Count  Thurn  (an 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  237 

Austrian  admiral  of  the  Neapolitan  navy)  would  at- 
tend outside  the  secret  passage  leading  from  the  royal 
rooms  to  the  "  Molesiglio,"  or  little  quay,  to  receive 
Nelson  or  his  nominees.  It  is  said  that  Brigadier  Ca- 
racciolo  had  begged  to  convoy  the  royal  party  and 
float  the  royal  standard  on  his  frigate,  but  had  been 
dryly  denied;  and  this,  perhaps,  was  the  first  prick  to 
that  treacherous  revenge  which  six  months  later  he  was 
to  expiate  by  his  death. 

But  on  a  sudden,  at  the  eleventh  hour,  the  whole  was 
put  off  till  the  next  evening.  The  chests  in  which  some 
of  the  treasure  had  been  bestowed  on  the  Alcmene 
were  rotten;  at  least  this  was  one  of  the  pretexts 
which  Nelson,  who  had  already  signed  orders  for  safe 
conduct,  one  possibly  referring  to  the  royalties,  evi- 
dently mistrusted.  On  this  eventful  day  at  least  six 
communications  passed  between  Hamilton  and  Acton 
(if  the  inclosures  from  the  palace  are  included),  and 
Nelson,  prompt  and  impatient,  was  acutely  irritated. 
In  vain  Acton  expressed  his  acquiescence.  He  was  "  in 
hopes  that  these  few  hours  will  not  exasperate  more 
than  at  present  our  position."  Nelson  remained  po- 
lite, but  decided.  The  fact  was  that  both  King  and 
Queen  waited  on  Providence  at  the  last  gasp.  The 
former  dreaded  to  desert  his  people  at  the  moment  of 
defeat;  the  latter  feared  a  step  which,  if  futile,  might 
irreparably  alienate  her  husband,  and  must  render  her 
execrable  to  the  faithful  Lazzaroni. 

By  means  of  the  old  manuscripts  the  scene  rises 
vividly  before  us.  Within  the  precincts  of  the  palace, 
flurry,  dissension,  wavering  perplexity,  confusion,  a 
spectral  misery.  In  its  purlieus,  treason.  Outside,  a 
seditious  loyalty  withholding  the  King  from  the  Queen. 
In  the  council-chamber,  Belmonte,  serene  and  punc- 
tilious; Gallo,  dainty  in  danger;  Caracciolo,  jealous 
and  sullen;  Acton,  slow,  doubtful,  and  stolid.  At  the 


238  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

English  Embassy  alone  reigned  vigilance,  resolve,  and 
resourcefulness.  Every  English  merchant  (and  there 
were  many  both' here  and  at  Leghorn)  looked  to  Nel- 
son and  Hamilton  and  Emma.  Among  phantoms 
these  were  realities.  On  them  alone  counted  those 
poor  "  old  demoiselles  of  France  "  who  had  sought 
asylum  in  the  Neapolitan  palace.  On  them  alone  hung 
the  destinies  of  a  dynasty  threatened  at  home,  forsaken 
abroad,  and  faced  with  the  certainty  of  invasion.  They 
stood  for  the  British  fleet,  and  the  British  fleet  for 
the  salvation  of  Europe. 

The  ominous  morning  dawned  of  the  2ist. 

All  that  day  General  Acton  pelted  Nelson  and  Ham- 
ilton with  contradictory  announcements,  of  which  no 
fewer  than  seven  remain.  At  first  he  agrees  that  the 
moment  has  come  when  "  no  time  should  be  lost,"  but 
the  inevitable  proviso  follows — "  If  the  wind  does  not 
blow  too  hard."  He  next  writes  that,  in  such  a  case,  all 
had  best  be  deferred  afresh.  The  Alcmene,  too,  with 
the  bullion  on  board — as  much  as  two  million  and  a 
half  sterling — was  off  Posilippo,  and  its  signals  might 
alarm  the  angry  crowds,  clamouring  for  their  King  at 
Santa  Lucia,  and  on  the  Chiaja.  Another  billet  prom- 
ises the  "  King's  desire  "  as  soon  forthcoming.  In 
another,  once  more,  grave  consideration  is  devoted  to 
the  usual  retiring  hour  of  the  young  princes,  and  to 
the  "  feeding-time  "  of  the  King's  grandchild,  the  babe 
in  arms  of  the  heir-apparent  and  Princess  Clementina, 
which  had  been  so  anxiously  awaited  in  October ;  "  a 
sucking  child,"  says  Acton  in  a  crowning  instance  of 
unconscious  humour,  "  makes  a  most  dreadful  spec- 
tacle to  the  eyes  of  the  servant  women  and  in  the 
rest  of  the  family."  Nelson,  pressing  for  expedition, 
must  have  been  beside  himself  over  the  precious  mo- 
ments thus  being  squandered.  What  Acton  remarks 
in  one  of  these  letters,  once  more  in  his  peculiar  Eng- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  239 

lish,  applies  also  to  his  own  communications,  "  Heav- 
ings  from  every  side  .  .  .  contradictions  from  every 
corner." 

Nelson,  however,  would  brook  no  more  trifling. 
Everything  should  be  settled  by  about  seven.  Count 
Thurn  should  be  at  the  appointed  rendezvous,  the 
Molesiglio.  His  password,  unless  some  unexpected 
force  intervened,  was  to  be  the  English,  "All  goes 
right  and  well " ;  otherwise,  "  All  is  wrong,  you  may 
go  back." 

One  can  imagine  the  unfortunate  Count  rehearsing 
his  provoking  part  that  afternoon  with  an  Austrian  ac- 
cent :  "  Al  goes  raight  " — "  Al  ees  vrong." 

Acton  and  Caracciolo  drew  up  the  order  of  em- 
barkation. By  half -past  eight  the  royal  contingent, 
convoyed  by  Nelson  and  his  friends  through  the  secret 
passage  to  the  little  quay,  were  to  have  been  rowed  on 
board  the  Vanguard.  It  comprised  besides  the  King, 
Queen,  the  Hereditary  Prince  with  his  wife  and  in- 
fant (whose  "  zafatta,"  or  nurse,  was  no  less  a  per- 
sonage than  the  Duchess  of  Gravina),  the  little  Prince 
Albert,  to  whom  Emma  was  devoted  (with  his  "  za- 
fatta "  also),  Prince  Leopold,  the  three  remaining 
princesses,  Acton,  Princes  Castelcicala  and  Belmonte, 
Thurn,  and  the  court  physician  Vincenzo  Ruzzi.  The 
second  embarkation  was  to  follow  two  hours  later  with 
a  great  retinue,  including,  it  is  interesting  for  Men- 
delssohn-admirers to  notice,  the  name  of  "  Bartoldi." 
The  rest  were  to  proceed  in  three  several  detachments, 
amounting  to  nearly  four  hundred  souls,  noble  and 
otherwise,  among  whom  Joseph  Acton's  family  are 
specified.  The  two  royal  spinsters  of  France  were 
to  be  conducted  with  every  precaution  by  land  to 
Portici,  whence  they  might  find  their  way  over  the 
border.  All  friendly  Ambassadors  were  to  be  notified. 
Such  was  the  routine.  It  should  be  especially  noticed 


240  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

that  from  these  exact  lists,  detailing  the  names  of  every 
passenger,  the  Hamiltons  are  absent.  They  were  un- 
der Nelson's  care,  and  of  his  party — a  point  most  ma- 
terial to  the  future  narrative  substantiating  Lady  Ham- 
ilton's own  subsequent  story.  And  it  must  further  be 
emphasised  that  these  Acton  letters,  as  well  as  a  refer- 
ence in  one  of  the  Queen's,  go  far  to  establish  the  plan 
of  the  secret  passage  as  an  historical  fact,  instead 
of  as  any  figment  or  after-inlay  of  Emma's  imagi- 
nation. 

As  night  drew  on  Maria  Carolina  sat  down  to  indite 
two  letters,  the  one  to  her  daughter  at  Vienna,  the  other 
to  Emma,  who  would  rejoin  her  so  soon  in  this  crisis 
of  her  fate.  She  wrote  them  amid  horrors  and  in 
wretchedness.  The  army  could  no  more  be  trusted. 
Even  the  navy  was  in  revolt.  Orders  had  been  given 
that,  after  the  royal  departure,  the  remaining  ships 
were  to  be  burned  lest  they  should  fall  into  French  or 
revolutionary  hands.  As  she  wrote,  the  tidings  came 
that  the  miserable  Vanni — the  creature  of  her  in- 
quisition— had  shot  himself  dead,  and  she  loads  herself 
with  reproaches.  Massacre  continued ;  the  very  French 
emigres  were  not  spared  by  the  Italian  Jacobins. 
Everywhere  tumult,  disgrace,  bloodshed.  The  crowd, 
calmed  for  a  moment,  still  howled  at  intervals  for  their 
King,  whose  departure  they  now  suspected.  The 
"  cruel  determination  "  had  been  foisted  on  her.  Once 
on  board,  the  Queen  tells  the  empress,  "  God  help  us, 
.  .  .  saved,  but  ruined  and  dishonoured."  To  Lady 
Hamilton  she  repeats  the  same  distracted  burden. 
Discipline  has  vanished.  "  Unbridled  "  license  grows 
hourly.  Their  "  concert  with  their  liberator  "  is  their 
mainstay.  Her  last  thoughts  are  for  the  safety  of 
friends  and  dependants,  whom  she  confides  by  name  to 
Emma's  charge.  Her  torn  heart  bleeds.  Mack 
despairs  also,  for  Aquila  is  taken,  "  to  the  eternal 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  241 

shame  of  our  country."  She  trembles  for  the  horrors 
that  a  cowardly  people  may  commit. 

The  sky  was  clouded.  There  was  a  lull  in  the  strong 
wind  off  the  shore,  but  a  heavy  ground-swell  prevailed 
as  the  appointed  hour  approached.  The  royal  party 
anxiously  waited  in  their  apartments — the  Queen's 
room  with  its  dark  exit,  so  familiar  to  the  romantic 
Emma, — for  the  signal  which  should  summon  them 
through  the  tunnel  to  the  water-side.  On  the  Mole- 
siglio,  and  at  his  station  near  the  Arsenal,  stood  Thurn, 
muffled  and  ill  at  ease.  It  was  the  night  of  a  recep- 
tion given  in  Nelson's  honour  by  Kelim  Effendi,  the 
bearer  from  the  Sultan  of  his  "  plume  of  triumph." 

The  exact  sequence  of  what  now  occurred  is  difficult, 
but  possible,  to  collect  from  the  three  contemporary 
and,  at  first  sight,  conflicting  documents  that  survive. 
There  is  the  Queen's  own  brief  recital  to  her  daughter. 
There  is  Nelson's  dry  official  despatch  to  Lord  St.  Vin- 
cent, accentuating,  however,  Emma's  conspicuous 
services.  There  are  Emma's  own  hurried  lines  to 
Greville,  thirteen  days  after  that  awful  voyage,  which, 
for  three  days  and  nights,  deprived  her  of  sleep  and 
strained  every  faculty  of  mind  and  body. 

Let  us  try  to  ascertain  the  truth  by  collation.  Nel- 
son's account  is  brief  and  doubtless  accurate : — 

"On  the  2 ist,  at  8.30  P.M.,  three  barges  with  my- 
self and  Captain  Hope  landed  at  a  corner  of  the  Ar- 
senal. I  went  into  the  palace  and  brought  out  the 
whole  royal  family,  put  them  into  the  boats,  and  at 
9.30  they  were  all  safely  on  board." 

It  is  an  official  statement,  which  naturally  omits  the 
Count  in  waiting,  the  password,  the  mysteries  of  the 
secret  corridor,  which  Acton  in  his  letters,  confirming 
Emma's  after  account,  had  arranged  with  Nelson. 

The  Queen's  short  notice  to  the  Empress  of  Austria 
(hitherto  unmarked)  makes  no  mention  of  Emma's 


242 

name — the  Queen  never  does  in  any  of  her  letters  to 
her  daughter — but  further  corroborates  the  melodrama 
of  the  secret  staircase  winding  down  to  the  little 
quay : — 

"  We  descended — all  our  family,  ten  in  number,  with 
the  utmost  secrecy,  in  the  dark,  without  our  women 
or  any  one,  and  in  two  boats.  Nelson  was  our  guide." 

Now  let  us  listen  carefully  to  Emma's  own  graphic 
narrative.  The  hours  named  in  it  do  not  tally  with 
Nelson's,  and  after  the  long  strain  of  the  tragic  occur- 
rences, culminating  in  the  death  of  the  little  Prince 
Albert,  she  may  well  have  been  confused.  They  are 
really  irrelevant.  The  point  is  the  real  sequence  and 
substance  of  events,  which,  more  or  less,  must  have 
stayed  in  her  immediate  remembrance.  It  will  be 
found  that  her  vivid  words  bear  a  construction  dif- 
ferent from  that  which  might  appear  at  the  first  blush, 
and  it  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  no  possible  motive 
for  distorting  the  facts  can  be  alleged  in  this  friendly 
communication  to  her  old  friend:— 

"  On  the  2  ist  at  ten  at  night,  Lord  Nelson,  Sir  Wm., 
Mother  and  self  went  out  to  pay  a  visit,  sent  all  our 
servants  away,  and  ordered  them  in  2  hours  to  come 
with  the  coach,  and  ordered  supper  at  home.  When 
they  were  gone,  we  sett  off,  walked  to  our  boat,  and 
after  two  hours  got  to  the  Vanguard.  Lord  N.  then 
went  with  armed  boats  to  a  secret  passage  adjoining  to 
the  pallace,  got  up  the  dark  staircase  that  goes  into  the 
Queen's  room,  and  with  a  dark  lantern,  cutlasses, 
pistols,  etc.,  brought  off  every  soul,  ten  in  number,  to 
the  Vanguard  at  twelve  o'clock.  If  we  had  remained 
to  the  next  day,  we  shou'd  have  all  been  imprisoned." 

Reading  this  account  loosely,  it  might  be  imagined 
that  Emma  transposed  the  true  order;  that  Nelson, 
stealing  with  the  Hamiltons  away  from  the  reception, 
first  brought  them  on  board,  and  afterwards  returned 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  243 

for  the  royal  fugitives.  But  the  reverse  of  this  ad- 
mits of  proof  from  her  own  statement.  She,  with  her 
family  and  Nelson,  quitted  the  party  at  (as  she  here 
puts  it)  ten.  It  took  them  two  hours  to  reach  the  Van- 
guard. Nelson  saved  the  royalties,  who  were  not  on 
board  till  "  twelve."  It  is  obvious,  therefore,  that 
(whatever  the  precise  hour)  the  Hamiltons  and  Mrs. 
Cadogan  arrived  on  the  Vanguard  at  the  selfsame  mo- 
ment as  the  King,  the  Queen,  their  children,  and  grand- 
child. The  misimpression  arises  from  the  phrasing 
"  Lord  Nelson  then  went  with  armed  boats,"  etc.,  fol- 
lowing the  previous  statement  of  their  being  at  their 
destination  "  after  two  hours."  But  this  "  then"  as 
so  often  in  Emma's  thinking-aloud  letters,  seems  an 
enclitic  merely  carrying  on  disjointed  sentences.  It 
may  be  no  mark  of  time  at  all,  but  a  mere  reference  to 
what  happened  after  they  hastened  from  the  enter- 
tainment, having  ordered  everything  as  if  they  intended 
to  remain  until  its  close.  Otherwise  they  must  have 
"  got  to  "  the  Vanguard  long  before  the  King  and 
Queen,  which,  by  her  own  recollection  in  this  letter, 
they  do  not.  It  will  be  noted  from  Nelson's  recital 
that  the  Vanguard  could  be  reached  in  an  hour. 

What  happened,  then,  seems  to  be  this.  After  their 
hurried  exit,  the  Hamiltons  accompanied  Nelson  on 
foot.  The  Acton  correspondence  shows  that,  as  has 
appeared  from  the  pre-arrangements,  the  Hamiltons 
must  have  been  of  Nelson's  private  and  unspecified 
party.  Together  they  went  to  their  boat  where,  be- 
fore their  start,  they  awaited  the  separate  escape  of  the 
royalties.  Eventually  the  two  contingents  stepped  on 
to  the  deck  of  the  Vanguard  at  the  same  moment  and 
together.  But,  in  the  interval,  something  must  have 
necessitated  and  occupied  their  attendance. 

What  was  it  ? 

Here  Emma's  own  account  in  her  "  Prince  Regent's 


244  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Memorial,"  more  than  fourteen  years  afterwards,  per- 
haps comes  to  our  aid.  It  has  been  discredited  even  as 
regards  the  "  secret  passage  "  incident  which  Acton's 
letters  reveal  by  distinct  allusion.  This  is  what  Emma 
says : — 

"  To  shew  the  caution  and  secrecy  that  was  neces- 
sarily used  in  thus  getting  away,  I  had  on  the  night  of 
our  embarkation  to  attend  the  party  given  by  the  Kilim 
Effendi,  who  was  sent  by  the  grand  seignior  to  Naples 
to  present  Nelson  with  the  Shahlerih  or  Plume  of  Tri- 
umph. I  had  to  steal  from  the  party,  leaving  our  car- 
riages and  equipages  waiting  at  his  house,  and  in  about 
fifteen  minutes  to  be  at  my  post,  where  it  was  my  task 
to  conduct  the  Royal  Family  through  the  subterranean 
passage  to  Nelson's  boats,  by  that  moment  waiting  for 
us  on  the  shore.  The  season  for  this  voyage  was  ex- 
tremely hazardous,  and  our  miraculous  preservation  is 
recorded  by  the  Admiral  upon  our  arrival  at  Palermo." 

I  venture,  therefore,  to  suggest  the  following  prob- 
ability. Count  Thurn  is  keeping  watch,  in  accordance 
with  the  preconcerted  plan.  Captain  Hope  and  Nel- 
son arrive  at  about  7.30  by  Neapolitan  time  at  the 
Molesiglio.  Leaving  Captain  Hope  in  charge,  Nelson 
hurries  to  the  reception,  as  if  nothing  were  in  process, 
and,  as  designed,  meets  the  Hamiltons  and  Mrs.  Cado- 
gan.  Within  a  quarter  of  an  hour  they  all  sally  forth, 
walk  to  the  shore,  and  proceed  in  Sir  William's  private 
boat  to  the  rendezvous,  Emma,  quitting  her  mother 
and  husband,  hastens  by  the  palace  postern  to  the  side 
of  her  "  adored  Queen."  The  signal  for  the  flight 
has  already  been  made  by  Count  Thurn.  Emma  ac- 
companies the  royal  family  to  the  winding  and  under- 
ground staircase,  up  which  Nelson  climbs  with  pistols 
and  lanterns  to  conduct  them.  They  all  emerge  from 
the  inner  to  the  outer  darkness.  The  royal  family  are 
bestowed  by  Hope  and  Nelson  in  their  barges.  The 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  245 

Hamiltons  re-enter  their  own  private  boat.  In  another 
hour  they  again  meet  on  board  the  Vanguard. 

Emma's  temperament  alike  and  circumstances  forbid 
us  to  suppose  that,  at  such  an  hour,  she  would  allow 
herself  to  stay  apart  from  the  Queen.  She  lived,  and 
had  for  weeks  been  living,  on  tension.  The  melo- 
drama of  the  moment,  the  danger,  the  descent  down 
the  cavernous  passage,  the  lanterns,  pistols,  and  cut- 
lasses, the  armed  boats,  the  safe  conduct  of  her  hero, 
would  all  appeal  to  her.  It  was  an  experience  unlikely 
to  be  repeated,  and  one  that  she  would  be  most  unlikely 
to  forgo.  Affection  and  excitement  would  both  unite 
in  prompting  her  to  persuade  Nelson  into  permitting 
her  to  assist  in  this  thrilling  scene.  And  it  would  be 
equally  unlikely  that  either  she  or  Nelson  would  re- 
port this  episode  to  England.  In  any  case,  the  incident 
was  one  more  of  personal  adventure  than  of  necessary 
help.  What  Nelson  does  single  out  for  the  highest 
commendation  in  his  despatches,  what  was  published 
both  at  home  and  abroad,  and  universally  acknowl- 
edged, what  Lord  St.  Vincent  praised  with  gratitude, 
was  her  signal  service  before  the  voyage  and  under 
that  awful  storm  which  arose  during  it,  in  which,  by 
every  authentic  account,  she  enacted  the  true  heroine, 
exerting  her  energies  for  every  one  except  herself,  car- 
ing for  and  comforting  all,  till  she  was  called  their 
"  guardian  angel."  "  What  a  scene,"  wrote  Sir  John 
Macpherson  to  Hamilton,  "  you,  your  Sicilian  King, 
his  Queen,  Lady  Hamilton,  and  our  noble  Nelson  have 
lately  gone  through !  .  .  .  Lady  Hamilton  has  shown, 
with  honour  to  you  and  herself,  the  merit  of  your 
predilection  and  selection  of  so  good  a  heart  and  so 
fine  a  mind.  She  is  admired  here  from  the  court  to 
the  cottage.  The  King  and  Prince  of  Wales  often 
speak  of  her." 

It  was  not  till  seven  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  the 


246  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

23rd  that  the  Vanguard  could  weigh  anchor.  Fresh 
consignments  of  things  left  behind  were  awaited.  It 
was  still  hoped  that  riot  might  be  pacified  and  disaf- 
fection subdued.  Prince  Francesco  Pignatelli  had 
been  commissioned  to  reign  at  Naples  during  the 
King's  absence,  and  was  nominated  Deputy-Captain- 
General — of  anarchy.  During  this  interval  of  sus- 
pense, a  deputation  of  the  magistrates  came  on  board 
and  implored  the  King  to  remain  among  his  people. 
He  was  inflexible,  and  every  effort  to  move  him  proved 
unavailing.  On  the  one  hand,  the  Lazzaroni,  incensed 
against  the  Jacobins  despoiling  them  of  their  King;  on 
the  other,  the  French  Ambassador,  smarting  under  his 
formal  dismissal  procured  by  Emma's  influence,  were 
each  precipitating  an  upheaval  itself  engineered  by 
French  arms  and  agitators  and  used  by  traitorous 
nobles,  whom  both  mob  and  bourgeoisie  had  grown  to 
detest.  While  Maria  Carolina's  name  was  now  ex- 
ecrated at  Naples  by  loyalist  and  disloyalist  alike,  her 
misfortunes  called  forth  sympathy  from  England, 
alarmed  by  the  French  excesses,  and  regarding  the 
Jacobin  mercilessness  as  fastening  on  faith,  allegiance, 
and  freedom. 

Not  a  murmur  escaped  the  lips  of  the  pig-headed 
King  or  the  hysterical  Queen,  though  inwardly  both 
repined.  From  the  Vanguard,  ere  it  set  sail,  Maria 
Carolina  wrote  her  sad  letter  to  her  daughter.  The 
"  cruel  resolution  had  to  be  taken."  Her  "  one  con- 
solation "  was  that  all  faithful  to  their  house  had  been 
saved. 

After  two  days'  anxious  inaction  the  Vanguard  and 
'Sannite,  with  about  twenty  sail  of  vessels,  at  last  left 
the  bay  in  disturbed  weather  and  under  a  lowering 
sky.  Among  the  last  visitors  was  General  Mack,  at 
the  end  of  his  hopes,  his  wits,  and  his  health :  "  my 
heart  bled  for  him,"  wrote  Nelson,  "  worn  to  a 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  247 

shadow."  The  next  morning  witnessed  the  worst 
storm  in  Nelson's  long  recollection. 

And  here  Emma  approved  herself  worthy  of  her 
hero's  ideal.  A  splendid  sailor,  intrepid  and  energetic, 
she  owned  a  physique  which,  like  her  muscular  arms, 
she  perhaps  inherited  from  her  blacksmith  father.  So 
quick  had  proved  the  eventual  decision  to  fly,  such  had 
been  the  precautions  against  attracting  notice  by  any 
show  of  preparation,  so  many  public  provisions  had 
been  hurried,  that  the  private  had  been  perforce  neg- 
lected. Nelson  himself  thus  paints  her  conduct  on 
this  "  trying  occasion."  "  They  necessarily  came  on 
board  without  a  bed.  .  .  .  Lady  Hamilton  provided 
her  own  beds,  linen,  etc.,  and  became  their  slave;  for 
except  one  man,  no  person  belonging  to  royalty  as- 
sisted the  royal  family,  nor  did  her  Ladyship  enter  a 
bed  the  whole  time  they  were  on  board."  Emma's 
Palermo  letter  to  Greville,  which  is  very  characteristic, 
will  best  resume  the  narrative  : — 

"  We  arrived  on  Christmas  day  at  night,  after  hav- 
ing been  near  lost,  a  tempest  that  Lord  Nelson  had 
never  seen  for  thirty  years  he  has  been  at  sea,  the  like ; 
all  our  sails  torn  to  pieces,  and  all  the  men  ready  with 
their  axes  to  cut  away  the  masts.  And  poor  I  to  at- 
tend and  keep  up  the  spirits  of  the  Queen,  the  Princess 
Royall,  three  young  princesses,  a  baby  six  weeks  old, 
and  2  young  princes  Leopold  and  Albert;  the  last,  six 
years  old,  my  favourite,  taken  with  convulsion  in  the 
midst  of  the  storm,  and,  at  seven  in  the  evening  of 
Christmas  day,  expired  in  my  arms,  not  a  soul  to  help 
me,  as  the  few  women  her  Majesty  brought  on  board 
were  incapable  of  helping  her  or  the  poor  royal  chil- 
dren. The  King  and  Prince  were  below  in  the  ward 
room  with  Castelcicala,  Belmonte,  Gravina,  Acton,  and 
Sir  William,  my  mother  there  assisting  them,  all  their 
attendants  being  so  frighten'd,  and  on  their  knees 


248  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

praying.  The  King  says  my  mother  is  an  angel.  I 
have  been  for  12  nights  without  once  closing  my  eyes. 
.  .  .  The  gallant  Mack  is  now  at  Capua,  fighting  it  out 
to  the  last,  and,  I  believe,  coming  with  the  remains  of 
his  vile  army  into  Calabria  to  protect  Sicily,  but  thank 
God  we  have  got  our  brave  Lord  Nelson.  The  King 
and  Queen  and  the  Sicilians  adore,  next  to  worship 
him,  and  so  they  ought;  for  we  shou'd  not  have  had 
this  Island  but  for  his  glorious  victory.  He  is  called 
here  Nostro  Liberatore,  nostro  Salvatore.  We  have 
left  everything  at  Naples  but  the  vases  and  best  pic- 
tures. 3  houses  elegantly  furnished,  all  our  horses 
and  our  6  or  7  carriages,  I  think  is  enough  for  the  vile 
French.  For  we  cou'd  not  get  our  things  off,  not  to 
betray  the  royal  family.  And,  as  we  were  in  council, 
we  were  sworn  to  secrecy.  So  we  are  the  worst  off. 
All  the  other  ministers  have  saved  all  by  staying  some 
days  after  us.  Nothing  can  equal  the  manner  we  have 
been  received  here ;  but  dear,  dear  Naples,  we  now  dare 
not  show  our  love  for  that  place;  for  this  country  is 
je[a]lous  of  the  other.  We  cannot  at  present  proffit 
of  our  leave  of  absence,  for  we  cannot  leave  the  royal 
family  in  their  distress.  Sir  William,  however,  says 
that  in  the  Spring  we  shall  leave  this,  as  Lord  St.  Vin- 
cent has  ordered  a  ship  to  carry  us  down  to  Gibraltar. 
God  only  knows  what  yet  is  to  become  of  us.  We  are 
worn  out.  I  am  with  anxiety  and  fatigue.  Sir  Will- 
iam [h]as  had  3  days  a  bilious  attack,  but  is  now  well. 
.  .  .  The  Queen,  whom  I  love  better  than  any  person 
in  the  world,  is  very  unwell.  We  weep  together,  and 
now  that  is  our  onely  comfort.  Sir  William  and 
the  King  are  philosophers ;  nothing  affects  them,  thank 
God,  and  we  are  scolded  even  for  shewing  proper  sensi- 
bility. God  bless  you,  my  dear  Sir.  Excuse  this 
scrawl." 

At  three  in  the  afternoon  of  that  sad  Christmas  Day, 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  249 

the  royal  standard  was  hoisted  at  the  head  of  the  Van- 
guard in  face  of  Palermo.  The  tempest-tossed  Queen, 
prostrate  with  grief  at  the  death  of  her  little  son,  re- 
fused to  go  on  shore.  The  King  entered  his  barge 
and  was  received  with  loyal  acclamations.  The  Van- 
guard did  not  anchor  till  two  o'clock  of  the  following 
morning.  To  spare  the  feelings  of  the  bereaved 
Queen,  Nelson  accompanied  her  and  the  Princesses 
privately  to  the  land.  Even  then  she  was  surrounded 
by  half-enemies.  Caracciolo  had  not  yet  evinced  his 
Jacobin  sympathies  and  was  already  sailing  under  du- 
bious colours.  The  Neapolitan  Captain  Bausan,  whose 
skill  contributed  to  the  safety  of  the  ships,  and  who 
was  again  to  pilot  the  King  next  year  into  port,  be- 
came, in  that  very  year,  himself  a  suspect  and  an 
exile. 

Among  the  furniture  abandoned  at  the  English  Em- 
bassy may  have  been  a  beautiful  table  and  cabinet 
which  the  grateful  Nelson  had  ordered  from  England 
as  mementos  for  Emma,  and  whose  classical  designs 
of  muses  and  hovering  cupids  are  said  to  have  been 
painted  by  Angelica  Kauffmann.  These  still  exist,  and 
are  in  the  present  possession  of  Mr.  Sanderson,  the 
eminent  Edinburgh  collector,  to  whose  kindness  the 
writer  is  indebted  for  a  photograph.  Was  it  to  these, 
perhaps,  that  Nelson  alluded  when  he  mentioned  the 
"  Amorins  "  to  Emma  in  1804? 

The  Queen  secluded  herself  in  the  old  palace  of 
Colli.  It  seemed  ages,  she  soon  wrote,  since  she  had 
seen  one  to  whom  she  repeated  her  eternal  gratitude 
and  perpetual  concern.  Her  throat,  head,  and  chest 
were  affected;  the  physicians  were  summoned,  but  her 
malady  lay  beyond  their  cure.  Not  only  had  she  been 
sorely  bereaved,  disgraced  by  defeats,  and  stung  by 
treacheries,  but  her  husband  now  began  to  make  her  a 
scapegoat.  This,  forsooth,  was  the  fruit  of  her  Anglo- 


250  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

mania — a  revolted  kingdom,  a  maddened  though  ador- 
ing populace,  an  advancing  and  arrogant  enemy. 
Every  day  the  Queen  frequented  the  churches  for 
prayer  and  the  convents  for  meditation.  Each  even- 
ing she  poured  out  her  heart  to  the  helpful  friend  of 
her  choice,  whose  sympathy  lightened  a  load  else  in- 
supportable. 

With  some  difficulty  the  Hamiltons,  whose  perma- 
nent guest  Nelson  now  first  became,  found  a  suitable 
abode  not  too  distant  from  the  palace,  and,  as  they 
hoped,  healthier  in  situation  than  most  of  a  then 
malarious  city.  But  they  all  suffered  from  the  bad 
air,  the  more  so  in  the  reaction  of  the  change  from  their 
Neapolitan  home.  On  Emma  now  devolved  half  the 
duties  of  the  transferred  Embassy.  Sir  William 
waxed  peevish  and  querulous.  He  bemoaned  the 
wreck  of  the  Colossus,  which  had  carried  his  art  treas- 
ures home.  Homeward  he  himself  yearned  to  retire, 
leaving  the  Consul  Lock  as  his  charge  d'affaires.  "  I 
have  been  driven,"  he  told  Greville,  "  from  my  com- 
fortable house  at  Naples  to  a  house  here  without  chim- 
neys, and  calculated  only  for  summer.  ...  As  I  wax 
old,  it  has  been  hard  upon  me,  having  had  both  bilious 
and  rheumatic  complaints.  I  am  still  most  desirous  of 
returning  home  by  the  first  ship  that  Lord  Nelson 
sends  down  to  Gibraltar,  as  I  am  worn  out  and  want 
repose."  But  he  shared  his  wife's  enthusiasm  for 
Nelson,  which  acted  like  a  tonic  on  his  nerves.  "  I  love 
Lord  Nelson  more  and  more,"  he  adds ;  "  his  activity  is 
wonderful,  and  he  loves  us  sincerely."  He  consoled 
himself  with  the  thought  that  he  had  done  his  duty. 

By  January  24  the  "  Parthenopean  Republic  "  had 
been  proclaimed  in  a  town  betrayed,  against  the  will 
of  its  populace,  to  a  French  General.  The  Tree  of 
Liberty  had  been  planted;  the  wooden  image  of  the 
giant,  crowned  with  the  red  cap  of  Revolution,  had 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  251 

been  set  up  in  full  sight  of  the  palace.  Every  loiterer 
on  the  Chiaja  wore  the  tricolor;  the  Toledo  itself  rang 
with  the  Marseillaise.  For  a  time  the  enemies  of 
Naples  played  the  part  of  its  deliverers.  For  the  Roy- 
alists Naples  seemed  lost  to  the  Neapolitans;  for  the 
Jacobins  she  appeared  the  trophy  of  freedom. 

The  successive  episodes  both  before  and  after  this 
terrible  transformation  scene  are  a  "  witches'  Sabbath." 
All  of  worst  and  wildest  in  every  class  of  the  popula- 
tion was  set  loose. 

And  the  royal  flight  had  been  a  Pandora's  box  which 
had  let  forth  the  whole  brood  of  winged  mischiefs.  If 
the  Queen  scathed  the  rebels  as  parricide  poltroons, 
they,  in  their  turn,  branded  her  as  villain,  and  the  King 
as  coward  and  selfish  deserter,  at  the  very  moment 
when  the, French  had  crossed  the  boundary.  But  with 
that  invading  host  most  of  them  were  already  in  col- 
lusion; it  was  the  Lazzaroni  alone  who  had  the  real 
right  of  denouncement.  No  sooner  had  Pignatelli 
published  the  absconded  King's  proclamation,  and 
placarded  the  edict  appointing  him  as  temporary 
viceroy,  than  "  chaos  was  come  again."  Their  rough- 
and-tumble  macaroni-monarch  had  vanished;  their 
loathed  French  Revolution  was  in  the  air.  The  French 
troops  were  on  their  insolent  march  cityward.  If  the 
Neapolitan  Bourbons  were  indeed  Baal,  as  the  Jacobins 
averred,  there  were  now  few  but  Lazzaroni  to  bow 
the  knee;  if,  the  Tree  of  Liberty,  as  the  loyalists  de- 
clared it,  its  votaries  might  be  counted  by  thousands. 
But  on  both  sides  there  was  no  Elijah — no  seer  to  call 
down  fire  from  heaven.  The  flames,  so  soon  to  en- 
wrap the  stricken  city,  were  those  of  Mephistopheles. 


CHAPTER  IX 

TRIUMPH    ONCE   MORE 

To  August,  1799 

"/CONSPIRACIES  are  for  aristocrats,  not  for 
§          nations,"  is  a  pregnant  apophthegm  of  Dis- 
V^/   raeli.     Viewed  at  its  full  length  and  from  its 
inner  side,  the  great  Jacobin  outburst  at  Naples  was 
more  a  conspiracy  than  a  revolution,  or  even  an  insur- 
rection. 

To  appreciate  Nelson's  part,  and  Emma's  help,  in 
the  much-criticised  suppression  of  the  Neapolitan 
Jacobins  during  June,  it  behoves  us  to  track,  however 
briefly,  the  course  of  that  most  interesting  and  singular 
movement.  This  is  not  the  occasion  for  a  minute  in- 
quiry; but  four  preliminary  considerations  must  be 
kept  in  mind.  In  the  first  place,  this  revolt  differs  from 
all  others  in  that  it  was  one  of  the  noblesse  and 
bourgeoisie  against  the  whole  mass  of  the  people.  In 
the  second,  its  chief  leaders,  both  men  and  women  (and 
it  is  doubly  engrossing  from  the  fact  that  women 
played  a  great  part  in  it),  confessedly  took  their  lives 
into  their  hands.  They  were  quite  ready  to  annihilate 
the  objects  of  their  loathing,  and,  therefore,  they  had 
small  right  to  complain  when  opportunity  transferred 
to  themselves  the  doom  that  they  had  planned  for 
others.  They  proved  fully  as  much  tyrants  and  tor- 
mentors as  their  sovereign;  and  the  whole  conflict  was 
really  one  between  two  absolutisms,  democratic  and 
bureaucratic — a  struggle  between  extreme  systems 

252 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  253 

exhibiting  equal  symptoms  of  the  same  evil.  The 
"  Civic  Guard,"  to  be  erected  by  the  "  Deputies,"  per- 
secuted just  as  Maria  Carolina's  secret  police  had  per- 
secuted before.  Acton's  exactions  were  to  be  out- 
done by  the  French  Commissary  Faypoult's  pillage, 
and  the  French  General  Championnet's  "  indemnities." 
As  for  brutality,  it  was  tripled  by  the  new  reign  of 
terror,  and  when  Championnet  compassed  the  concili- 
ation of  the  brave  populace,  he  contrived  even  to 
"  brutalise  miracles."  Again,  the  Neapolitan  Jacobins 
were  not  only  oppressors  of  all  authority,  but  traitors 
to  the  people  as  well  as  to  the  King;  while  at  last  they 
openly  confederated  with  the  invaders  of  their  father- 
land and  of  Europe.  It  was  thus  that  the  force  and 
guile  of  Napoleon  trafficked  in  the  reveries  of 
Rousseau. 

It  is  true,  nevertheless,  that  many  of  them  were  in- 
spired by  noble  motives  and  proved  conscientious  vic- 
tims. Such  children  of  light  as  these  redeem  the 
movement  as  a  real  step  in  the  progress  of  law  to  lib- 
erty. Some  were  lofty  idealists,  while  others,  how- 
ever, dreamed  of  realising  theories  impossible  even  in 
Cloud-Cuckoo-land.  Savants  and  ignoramuses,  phi- 
lanthropists and  cosmopolitans  abounded.  But  the 
majority  were  actuated  by  very  personal  motives,  and 
inspired  by  overweening  ambitions.  None  of  them, 
not  the  noblest,  were  orginative.  All  were  under  the 
spell  of  France;  the  worst,  under  that  of  French  gold; 
the  best,  under  that  of  French  sentiment.  And,  be- 
fore the  close,  there  were  very  few  even  among  the 
least  practical  who  did  not  rue  the  day  when  they  in- 
vited self-interest  masquerading  as  friendship,  and 
opened  their  gates  and  their  hearts  to  the  busybodying 
emissaries  of  the  Directory.  The  very  name  of  Fay- 
poult  soon  became  more  odious  than  the  fact  of  Fer- 
dinand. 


254  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Once  more,  just  as  the  contemporary  Jacobins  con- 
founded license  with  freedom,  and  ascribed  to  paper 
constitutions  the  virtues  of  native  patriotism,  so  the 
more  modern  Italians  have  always,  and  naturally, 
viewed  in  the  blood  of  these  martyrs  the  seed  of  United 
Italy.  It  is  a  legend  ineradicable  from  history;  and, 
after  the  same  manner,  William  Tell  is  made  by  Schil- 
ler the  prophet  of  United  Germany.  Yet,  in  the  main, 
a  legend  it  remains.  The  "  Parthenopean  Republic  " 
was  a  venture  purely  local,  unillumined  by  any  vision 
of  broadened  or  strengthened  nationality.  What  was 
not  French  in  its  fantasies,  was  derived  from  the  mod- 
els of  ancient  Rome.  Nothing  was  farther  from  the 
aspirations  of  the  Neapolitan  Jacobins  from  December, 
1798,  up  to  June,  1799,  than  the  ideal  of  one  confed- 
erated commonwealth.  Like  the  Ligurian  Republic, 
the  Neapolitan  was  the  creature  of  France.  Through 
France  it  rose;  through  France  it  fell.  And  it  is  not 
a  little  curious  that,  some  sixty  years  later,  it  was  to 
the  third  Napoleon  once  more  that  many  in  Italy  looked 
up  for  regeneration. 

"  II  merto  oppresso, — il  nazional  mendico, 
Carco  d'onor  e  gloria  ogni  straniero  " 

had  been  Eleonora  de  Fonseca  Pimentel's  lament  to 
the  King  in  1792.  By  the  revival  alone  of  national 
institutions,  expressing  national  character,  could  a 
natural  elasticity  be  restored.  A  theoretic  and  anti- 
national  uprising  actually  deprived  Naples  of  those  en- 
lightened schemes  by  which  in  her  prime  Maria  Caro- 
lina had  sought  to  renovate  her  people.  She  had  cut 
the  claws  of  the  enraged  nobles  by  abolishing  their 
feudal  prerogatives.  She  had  sought  to  improve  the 
superstitious  Lazzaroni  by  projects  of  industry  and 
education.  She  had  exalted  the  applauding  students 
into  an  aristocracy  of  talent.  But  it  was  as  puppets 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  255 

dancing  on  her  own  wires  that  she  had  benefited  them 
all.  And  the  result  showed  that  their  real  resentment 
was  against  any  dependence  whatever  and  any  pauper- 
isation. Whether  by  democracy  or  by  bureaucracy, 
they  refused  to  be  transformed.  From  the  feudal 
baron  to  the  pagan  beggar,  each  class  wished  to  keep 
its  distinctive  flavour,  and  to  live  by  its  instincts.  The 
"  intellectuals  " — a  small  remnant — were  the  sole  cos- 
mopolitans. They  tried  to  transfigure  Naples  into 
Utopia,  and  for  that  purpose  invited  a  foe  that  for- 
sook them.  Denationalism  (or  a-nationalism)  failed; 
Naples  remained  Naples  still.  But  the  miserable  al- 
ternative proved  the  grinding  sway  of  an  avenging 
tyrant,  bereft  by  rebellion  of  his  old  jollity,  and  un- 
tempered  by  the  earlier  intellectualism  of  his  now 
fanatical  wife. 

The  Revolution  presents  the  spectacle  of  character- 
istic class-instincts  in  orgy.  It  was  a  protest  far  more 
against  Acton's  bureaucratic  routine  than  against  mon- 
archy. Its  eruptions  were  those  of  its  physical  sur- 
roundings. It  was  a  Vesuvius,  with  all  its  attendants 
of  whirlwind,  earthquake,  and  waterspout.  The  light 
of  heaven  was  blotted  out  from  the  firmament,  molten 
lava  seared  the  whole  social  landscape,  and  the  deeps 
of  unbridled  instinct  shook  in  the  tornado. 

Prince  Pignatelli  proved  himself  little  but  driftwood 
on  the  deluge.  After  conceding  the  Jacobin  demands, 
he  proceeded  to  gratify  the  Lazzaroni's.  He  ended  by 
pleasing  none;  the  "  Eletti "  nullified  his  office,  of 
which  the  King  said  they  deprived  him.  He  opened 
with  the  usual  paper-constitution.  A  "  civic  guard  " 
was  formed,  the  military  and  civil  functions  were  di- 
vided, a  chamber  of  "  deputies "  was  constituted. 
Nominally,  the  elective  system  had  been  restored.  But 
the  first  act  of  the  new  body  was  to  abolish  their 


256  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

viceroy's  own  provisions.  They  decreed  that  hence- 
forward royal  power  should  devolve  on  two  authorities 
alone — a  chamber  of  nobles,  and  themselves,  the 
"  Patriots  " ;  the  really  popular  element  was  thus  ex- 
cluded, and  the  real  power  became  vested  in  a  "  Vene- 
tian Oligarchy."  Pignatelli  was  rendered  a  cipher, 
and  the  Lazzaroni,  who,  strange  to  relate,  proved 
themselves  the  sole  realities  in  a  limbo  of  phantoms, 
were  furious  at  their  own  incapacitation.  Pignatelli 
at  once  burned  one  hundred  and  twenty  bombardier 
boats — a  work  of  needless  destruction  completed  by 
Commodore  Campbell,  to  Nelson's  disgust,  some  few 
months  later;  Count  Thurn — our  watchman  of  a  fort- 
night ago — blew  up  two  vessels  and  three  frigates. 
Amid  this  flare  and  detonation  were  born  the  calam- 
ity and  carnage  that  succeeded.  Alarm  was  the  pre- 
lude to  violence,  and  violence  to  panic.  Ere  long,  the 
powerless  Pignatelli  offered  the  French  a  truce  in  his 
alarm,  and  fled  to  Sicily,  where  he  was  imprisoned,  but 
soon  released.  Save  for  the  Lazzaroni,  Naples  was 
without  authority  or  governance,  and  lay  exposed  a 
helpless  prey  to  the  common  enemy. 

Two  striking  scenes  happened  within  three  weeks, 
and  in  that  short  but  crowded  period  formed  the 
denouements  of  two  separate  acts  in  the  drama.  Both 
of  them  passed  under  the  patronage  of  St.  Januarius, 
whose  sanction,  as  declared  by  the  Archbishop  Zurlo, 
was  always  law  to  the  Lazzaroni.  They  may  serve  as 
landmarks  before  a  miniature  of  what  led  to  them  is 
attempted.  The  recital  (though  there  are  many  Italian 
authorities  for  the  whole  history)  is  most  vividly  given 
by  a  contemporary  who  cannot  be  accused  of  partiality 
to  the  Lazzaroni.  The  future  General  Pepe  was  then  a 
stripling  of  revolutionary  enthusiasm,  and  one  of  the 
first  recruits  in  the  new  and  transitory  "  civic  guard." 

On  the  night  of  January  15  a  strange  sight  might 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  257 

have  been  viewed  in  the  cathedral.  The  proud  and 
brave  Prince  Moliterno,  among  the  few  distinguished 
in  the  late  humiliating  campaign,  and  just  chosen  by  the 
Lazzaroni  as  their  chief,  wended  his  way,  barefooted, 
with  bowed  head  and  in  penitential  tatters,  towards  the 
glimmering  altar,  and  on  his  knees  besought  leave  of 
the  venerable  archbishop  to  harangue  the  people.  In 
that  procession  of  St.  Januarius  this  grandee  was  the 
humblest  and  perhaps  the  saddest.  The  French  gen- 
eral was  already  encamped  before  Capua.  Moliterno 
rallied  the  Lazzaroni  and  assured  them  that  he  would 
lead  them  victorious  against  the  foe.  Four  days  after- 
wards they  were  betrayed  to  the  patriots. 

Only  a  week  later,  and  yet  another  and  even  stranger 
tableau  happened  in  the  same  spot,  for  St.  Januarius 
haunts  the  Neapolitan  Revolution.  A  second  solemn 
procession  was  formed,  but  by  this  time  Championnet 
and  his  French  troops  had  advanced  to  Naples.  Dur- 
ing the  morning  he  had  addressed  the  assembled  peo- 
ple in  the  stately  hall  of  San  Lorenzo.  His  speech  had 
been  a  string  of  fair-weather  promises,  not  one  of 
which  was  kept.  In  the  evening  he  steps  cathedralward 
on  one  side  of  the  archbishop,  the  clever  general  Mac- 
donald  and  the  mocking  French  commissary  Abrial,  on 
the  other.  The  prelate  holds  aloft  the  sacred  relics 
and  the  miraculous  ewer.  Priests,  nobles,  "  patriots," 
and  a  vast  throng  of  Lazzaroni  march  in  his  wake. 
Suddenly  a  halt  is  called.  The  fate  of  Naples  trembles 
in  the  balance.  All  depends  on  whether  the  blood  of 
the  saint  shall  announce  by  its  liquefaction  to  his  be- 
lievers that  Heaven  favours  the  French  Republic. 
Archbishop  Zurlo  raises  the  crystal  basin.  The  saint's 
blood  is  obdurate,  and  still  monarchical.  Macdonald 
holds  a  concealed  but  significant  pistol.  Championnet 
whispers,  your  miracle  or  your  life!  The  terrorised 
ecclesiastic  announces  the  prodigy  to  the  crowd.  St. 


258  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Januarius,  then,  is  a  democrat.  The  Lazzaroni  shout 
in  their  thousands,  "  Long  live  St.  Januarius !  long  live 
his  republic !  "  The  trick  is  palmed  off  successfully 
on  the  credulous  populace,  and  Championnet  with  Mac- 
donald  returns  chuckling  to  St.  Elmo.  But  miracle  or 
no  miracle,  the  end  of  this  coarse  jugglery  was  civil 
war. 

The  two  intervals  must  now  be  briefly  supplied. 

On  January  12  Pignatelli,  from  the  first  hampered 
by  the  Deputies,  negotiated  secretly  and  in  panic  with 
the  enemy,  by  this  time  possessed  of  the  chief  provin- 
cial fortresses,  as  the  "  patriots  "  were  of  the  Neapol- 
itan. The  Lazzaroni,  however,  were  staunch,  so  that 
the  French  commissaries  despatched  next  day  by  Cham- 
pionnet to  receive  their  first  payment  were  forced  to 
return.  The  whole  first  episode  is  the  triumph  of  the 
Lazzaroni.  Reinforcements,  under  General  Naselli, 
reached  them  from  Palermo,  and  they  attacked  the 
quailing  "  civic  guard,"  composed  mainly  of  "  intel- 
lectuals "  and  professionals.  They  seized  the  "  patri- 
ots' "  arms,  the  troops  and  the  castles  surrendered  to 
them;  they  opened  the  prisons  and  the  galleys.  They 
dismayed  the  "  patriots,"  while  the  town  shuddered 
under  the  license  of  their  patrols.  On  the  whole,  how- 
ever, their  moderation  at  first  was  extraordinary.  Pepe, 
himself  their  captive,  bears  it  especial  witness  in  re- 
counting how  they  disdained  the  money  offered  by  his 
relations  and  released  him  unharmed.  The  Lazzaroni 
adored  Prince  Moliterno  and  his  colleague  in  leader- 
ship, the  Duke  of  Roccaromana.  They  would  gladly 
have  died  for  these,  as  for  the  Duke  della  Torre  and 
Clemente  Filomarino,  their  associate.  But  when  they 
discovered  that  the  leading  magnates  were  already 
treating  with  the  national  foe  and  combining  to  yield 
General  Championnet  and  his  French  troops  admit- 
tance, their  wrath  knew  no  bounds.  It  was  fanned  by 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  259 

the  priests,  who  vociferated  against  the  Neapolitan  foes 
of  Naples  from  their  pulpits.  Even  Moliterno  and 
Roccaromana  were  now  suspected  by  their  mob-fol- 
lowers of  Jacobinism.  In  an  access  of  mad  resentment 
the  Lazzaroni  fired  the  Duke  della  Torre's  palace,  piled 
and  burned  its  treasures,  and  dragged  forth  both  him 
and  the  luckless  Clemente  Filomarino,  to  be  roasted 
alive  on  the  pyre.  These  atrocities  culminated  in  the 
first  scene  that  has  just  been  described. 

The  Lazzaroni's  suspicions  were  well  founded.  On 
January  19,  their  hitherto  trusted  Roccaromana  him- 
self betrayed  them.  By  complot  with  the  "  patriots  " 
he  entered  the  fort  of  St.  Elmo,  and  won  over  its  com- 
mandant to  his  stratagem.  The  Lazzaroni  garrison 
were  sent  out  of  their  quarters,  ostensibly  to  buy  provi- 
sions for  the  approaching  siege.  On  their  return  they 
were  suddenly  disarmed.  The  tricolor  standard  was 
hoisted  as  a  signal  to  Championnet,  encamped  with  his 
legions  in  the  "  Largo  della  Pigna."  By  Pepe's  own 
confession,  the  Lazzaroni,  deserted  and  defrauded, 
evinced  a  "  marvellous  intrepidity."  Against  desperate 
odds  they  stood  their  ground.  Only  a  fortnight  be- 
fore, they  had  seen  of  what  poor  stuff  the  "  civic 
guard  "  had  been  made.  But  sturdier  "  patriots  "  than 
weak-kneed  students  now  garrisoned  St.  Elmo.  Over- 
whelming numbers  soon  closed  the  conflict. 

Meanwhile  Championnet  had  waved  his  flag  of  truce 
in  response  to  the  three-coloured  ensign,  and  while  the 
Lazzaroni  hung  back  tricked  and  abashed,  he  entered 
the  city.  He  at  once  made  "  an  affectionate  discourse." 
Everybody  was  promised  everything :  he  had  come  for 
all  their  goods.  The  "  patriots  "  loved  the  people,  and 
to  himself  both  they  and  the  Lazzaroni  were  brothers 
more  in  hearts  than  in  arms.  He  was  there  to  eman- 
cipate them  all;  a  golden  age  was  at  hand.  His  army 
was  not  French  but  Neapolitan. 

Memoirs — Vol.  14 — 9 


260  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

The  Lazzaroni,  gullible  and  volatile,  believed  him 
and  cheered ;  mob  fury  was  allayed.  "  God  save  San 
Gennaro!"  burst  from  every  lip.  "God  save  San 
Gennaro ! "  reiterated  Championnet  and  Macdonald. 
Before  a  day  had  passed  they  should  see  a  sign  from 
their  saint.  And  then  followed  the  solemn  juggle  of 
our  second  act.  Relics  were  very  helpful  to  the  Direc- 
tory, and  for  a  moment  those  who  had  panted  to  ex- 
terminate the  French  welcomed  them  as  brothers  under 
the  celestial  portent.  The  "  Parthenopean  Republic  " 
was  proclaimed.  The  poets  burst  into  song,  the  pam- 
phleteers into  doctrine,  the  journalists  into  execration 
of  monarchy  and  eulogies  of  Reason  and  the  Millen- 
nium. The  printing-presses  could  hardly  cope  with  the 
demand,  and  their  muse — the  tenth  muse  "  Ephemera  " 
— was  the  fair  Eleonora  Fonseca  di  Pimentel,  who  had 
been  allowed  to  republicanise  unmolested,  and  was  now 
editress  of  the  new  and  ebullient  Monitore.  Its  amen- 
ities did  .  not  compliment  the  self-exiled  court  at 
Palermo.  Of  Nelson  and  the  Hamiltons  as  yet  there 
was  no  abuse.  But  Ferdinand  was  called  a  "  debased 
despot,"  a  "  caitiff  fugitive,"  a  "  dense  imbecile,"  and 
a  "  stupid  tyrant,"  while,  so  far,  Carolina  fared  better 
as  "that  Amazon,  his  wife."  It  was  not  long  before 
the  middle-class  phase  of  the  movement  retaliated  on 
the  notables  even  more  violently  than  on  the  sover- 
eign. "Duke"  was  derived  from  coachman  ("a 
ducendo  "),  "  Count  "  from  lackey  ("a  comitando  ")  ; 
epithets  were  actually  changing  the  nature  of 
things. 

But  Championnet's  deeds  were  to  refute  his  words. 
A  few  days  of  paper  systems  were  the  parenthesis  be- 
tween a  spurious  peace  and  a  civil  war. 

A  bad  harvest  served  Championnet  as  excuse  for  dis- 
persing the  Lazzaroni  to  their  homesteads;  a  bare 
treasury  soon  caused  him  to  levy  toll.  A  general  in- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  261 

surrection  ensued  in  the  provinces,  repressed  by  a  fresh 
"  National  Guard "  wearing  the  cockade  and  com- 
manded by  the  once  loyalist  Count  Ruvo.  The  cloven 
hoof  of  French  "  emancipation  "  soon  discovered  itself. 
The  Directory  acquainted  Championnet  that,  since 
"  right  of  conquest "  had  prevailed,  the  vanquished 
must  pay  for  the  luxury  of  defeat.  Commissary-Gen- 
eral Faypoult  was  already  on  his  road  from  Paris  as 
collector  of  taxes  by  special  appointment.  His  orders 
were  to  expropriate  even  the  palaces  and  museums,  to 
loot  the  very  treasures  of  Pompeii.  The  General  him- 
self kicked  at  such  exactions.  He  protested — and  was 
recalled  to  Paris.  General  Macdonald,  who,  as  creature 
of  the  Directory,  had  perhaps  anticipated  his  own  ad- 
vantage, promptly  stepped  into  his  shoes.  The  Direc- 
tory forwarded  more  "  commissaries,"  with  orders 
from  the  "  patriotic  associations  "  to  pillage  the  prov- 
inces and  to  "  dictate  Republican  laws."  The  French 
troops  dared  not  linger  too  long  at  Naples,  and  eventu- 
ally their  whole  garrison  only  amounted  to  two  thou- 
sand five  hundred.  But  their  brief  sojourn  was  long 
enough  to  denude  the  city.  They  were  billeted  in  Sir 
William's  houses,  among  the  rest,  and  did  infinite  dam- 
age to  his  treasures.  Emma — his  "  Grecian,"  as  her 
husband  delighted  to  call  her — rued  the  vandalism 
which  now  terrorised  the  town. 

The  lack  of  the  Parthenopean  Republic  was  an  or- 
ganised army  with  a  capable  leader.  Calabria  and 
Apulia  were  at  this  very  moment  overrun  by  Corsican 
adventurers,  one  of  whom  assumed  the  title  of  Prince 
Francis,  and  pretended  that  he  was  the  lawful  heir  to 
the  throne. 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  the  King  designated 
Cardinal  Ruffo  his  Vicar-General  in  place  of  Pigna- 
telli,  the  absconder,  and  invested  him  with  supreme 
military  command,  although,  at  the  same  time,  he  em- 


262  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

phatically  bound  him  not  to  do  more  than  suppress  the 
rising,  without  previous  consultation  with  his  master; 
nor  was  he  on  any  account  at  any  time  to  treat  with  the 
rebels. 

It  should  be  noted  at  this  his  first  introduction  on  to 
our  scene,  that  so  early  as  June  17,  Hamilton  and  Nel- 
son seem  to  have  lost  all  confidence  in  him;  and  his 
behaviour  a  week  later  was  to  justify  their  discern- 
ment. 

This  singular  priest-militant,  whose  rugged  hardi- 
hood concealed  astute  subtlety,  and  who  was  at  once 
Legate  and  Lazzarone,  landed  on  the  Calabrian  coast 
to  proclaim  "  a  holy  cause."  He  was  the  royal  Robin 
Hood,  while  his  Friar  Tuck  was  the  Sicilian  brigand, 
Fra  Diavolo.  His  cardinalate  alienated  from  the 
"  patriot  "  cause  many  of  the  priests,  who  by  this  time 
had  joined  hands  with  the  insurgents;  for  they  could 
never  forget  how  the  Queen  had  once  withstood  the 
Pope.  The  raising  of  his  standard,  and  the  co-opera- 
tion of  the  Russian  and  Turkish  frigates  from  Corfu, 
soon  forced  the  French  into  an  active  provincial  cam- 
paign. The  Bourbonites  had  secured  the  fastness  of 
Andia.  The  French  stormed  and  took  it.  Their  mal- 
treatment of  young  girls  had  rendered  them  abominable 
even  in  the  eyes  of  their  better  "  patriot  "  allies,  one  of 
whom  on  this  occasion,  Prince  Carafa,  heading  the 
"  Neapolitan  legion,"  chivalrously  rescued  a  girl  vic- 
tim from  their  brutality.  A  long  sequel  of  sickening 
butcheries  on  both  sides  followed.  The  French  and 
the  "  patriots  "  shot  down  even  old  women.  Ruffo  and 
his  savage  bandits  gave  no  quarter ;  yet  they  were  wel- 
comed as  deliverers  from  rapine  and  murder.  One 
by  one  the  hill-strongholds,  that  France  had  taken,  were 
seized  by  Ruffo  for  the  King.  By  June  the  Republic 
had  become  limited  afresh  to  Naples,  and  "  patriot  " 
Naples  itself  smarted  under  the  greedy  despotism  of 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  263 

"  commissary  "  Abrial,  who  now  reigned  in  Macdon- 
ald's  shoes,  and  chastised  them  with  scorpions  where 
the  others  had  chastised  them  with  whips. 

The  Royalist  counter-stroke  of  April,  with  Ruffo  for 
instrument,  and  subsequently  a  new  "  extraordinary  " 
tribunal  as  executive,  was  long  kept  a  secret,  but  it  was 
divulged  to  the  Jacobins  through  a  remarkable  woman 
— Luisa  Molines  Sanfelice.  She  and  her  cousin-hus- 
band had  long  before  been  banished  for  extravagance, 
but  they  had  both  been  able  to  return  in  safety  when 
the  Revolution  began.  Her  passion  for  a  loyalist 
member  of  an  Italianised  Swiss  family,  Baccher,  in- 
volved the  wife  in  sedition.  To  her  Baccher  confided 
the  King's  commission,  and  the  secret  thus  became  dis- 
closed to  Vincenzo  Coco,  the  Jacobin  historian  and  ren- 
egade, who  afterwards  attached  himself  to  the  Bour- 
bons. "  Cherchez  la  fcmmc,"  indeed,  is  an  adage  ex- 
emplified throughout  a  rebellion  abounding  in  "  the 
rage  of  the  vulture,  the  love  of  the  turtle  " — 

';  Oh  wild  as  the  accents  of  lovers'  farewell, 
Are  the  hearts  which  they  bear,  and  the  tales  which  they  tell." 

In  September,  1800,  this  Luisa,  well  surnamed  "  the 
hapless,"  was  to  be  respited  by  the  Queen's  compassion 
on  the  eve  of  her  death-sentence.  The  King,  however, 
in  defiance  both  of  his  wife  and  of  the  amnesty  which 
he  had  then  solemnly  proclaimed,  refused  to  commute 
the  sentence. 

Except  for  Ruffo's  commission,  we  have  been  too 
long  absent  from  Palermo. 

Nelson's  thoughts  were  for  the  hard-beset  Malta,  the 
Neapolitan  succours  for  which  continued  most  unsatis- 
factory. Now,  as  a  few  months  later,  his  endeavour 
was  "  so  to  divide  "  his  "  forces,  that  all  "  might  "  have 
security."  To  Ball,  with  characteristic  generosity,  he 
entrusted  the  Maltese  opportunities  of  distinction.  He 


264  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

was  still  uneasy  and  unwell;  and  he  was  deeply  dis- 
pirited, after  his  recent  strain,  at  the  home-slight  of- 
fered him  by  the  appointment  of  Sidney  Smith  to  a 
superior  command,  with  Lord  Grenville's  orders  for 
his  obedience,  though  on  this  point  Lord  Spencer  soon 
reassured  him.  His  stepson's  ill-behaviour,  though  he 
excused  it  to  his  wife,  proved  a  fresh  source  of  annoy- 
ance. His  Fanny,  too,  began  to  wonder  at  his  neglect 
of  home  affairs.  "  If  I  have  the  happiness,"  he  an- 
swered, "  of  seeing  their  Sicilian  Majesties  safe  on  the 
throne  again,  it  is  probable  I  shall  still  be  home  in  the 
summer.  Good  Sir  William,  Lady  Hamilton  and  my- 
self are  the  mainsprings  of  the  machine  which  manages 
what  is  going  on  in  this  country.  We  are  all  bound  to 
England,  when  we  can  quit  our  posts  with  propriety." 
The  "  we  "  and  the  "  all  "  must  have  set  her  wonder- 
ing the  more. 

The  freedom  of  Palermo,  among  other  honours,  was 
conferred  on  him  in  March,  but  the  unfolding  tragedy 
of  Naples  added  to  his  general  discouragement.  He 
was  preoccupied  in  many  directions.  The  establish- 
ment of  (in  his  own  phrase)  "  the  Vesuvian  Republic," 
Pignatelli's  armistice  with  the  French,  "  in  which  the 
name  of  the  King  was  not  mentioned,"  the  surrender  of 
Leghorn  to  the  French,  boding  a  Tuscan  revolution,  in- 
censed him  as  much  as  it  did  the  royal  family.  Sicily, 
he  thought,  would  soon  be  endangered.  The  French 
successes  at  Capua,  their  installation  at  Naples,  so  af- 
fected him,  that  he  inclined  to  vindicate  the  royal 
honour  himself.  "  I  am  ready,"  he  wrote  in  mid- 
March,  "  to  assist  in  the  enterprise.  I  only  wish  to 
die  in  the  cause."  Jacobinism,  he  repeated,  was  ter- 
rorism. The  agreeable  surprise  of  General  Sir  Charles 
Stuart's  arrival  in  Sicily  with  a  thousand  troops,  that 
secured  Messina  against  invasion,  relieved  and  elated 
both  him  and  the  court.  He  even  believed — for  his 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  265 

wishes  ever  fathered  his  thoughts — that  these  might  ex- 
pel the  French  from  Naples. 

France,  indeed,  was  on  his  nerves  and  brain.  So 
soon  as  he  learned  that  the  hero  of  Acre  had  given 
passports  freeing  the  remnant  of  the  French  fleet  off 
Syria  and  Egypt,  he  was  beside  himself :  at  any  mo- 
ment a  new  squadron  might  effect  a  junction  with  the 
Spanish  frigates  and  bear  down  on  the  two  Sicilies. 
By  the  close  of  March  he  had  already  despatched  the 
truculent  and  sometimes  ferocious  Troubridge  to  Pro- 
cida  for  the  blockade  of  Naples.  Much  was  hoped, 
too,  from  the  co-operation  of  the  Russian  and  Turkish 
fleets.  It  was  quite  possible,  even  now,  that  Britain 
might  restore  the  Neapolitan  monarch  to  his  people. 
And  in  the  meantime,  with  eyes  alert  to  ensure  pre- 
paredness in  every  direction,  he  mediated  with  the  Bey 
of  Tunis  and  freed  Mohammedan  slaves. 

Nor  below  this  tide  of  varying  emotions  is  an  under- 
current lacking  of  inward  conflict.  In  his  own  heart 
a  miniature  revolution  was  also  in  process.  The  spell 
of  Lady  Hamilton  was  over  him,  and  he  struggled 
against  the  devious  promptings  of  his  heart.  To  pro- 
tect Naples  and  Sicily  against  France  had  been  the  de- 
clared policy  of  his  Government ;  to  exterminate  French 
predominance  was  his  own  chief  ambition;  he  chafed 
against  the  survival  of  a  single  ship.  "  I  know,"  he 
was  soon  to  write,  "  it  is  His  Majesty's  pleasure  that 
I  should  pay  such  attention  to  the  safety  of  His  Sicilian 
Majesty  and  his  kingdom  that  nothing  shall  induce  me 
to  risk  those  objects  of  my  special  care."  Every  pub- 
lic motive  riveted  him  to  the  spot  where  fascination 
lured  and  tempted.  It  is  a  mistake  to  imagine  that 
Emma  held  him  from  duty;  all  his  duties  were  per- 
formed, and  to  her  last  moment  she  protested  to  those 
most  in  his  confidence,  and  best  able  to  refute  her  if  she 
erred,  that  her  influence  never  tried  to  detain  him.  It 


266  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

was  duty  that  actuated  him — a  duty,  it  is  true,  that 
jumped  with  inclination,  and  fatally  fastened  him  to 
her  side.  Such  was  his  health,  that  he  had  desired  to 
quit  the  Mediterranean  altogether.  Away  from  the 
Mediterranean  coasts,  he  could  have  steeled  himself  at 
any  rate  to  absence,  if  not  to  forget  fulness.  In  the 
very  centre  of  the  seaboard  that  embodied  the  true  in- 
terests of  his  country,  and  to  which  his  instructions 
tied  him,  he  was  in  hourly  neighbourhood  of  his  idol. 
She  interpreted,  translated,  cheered,  and  companioned 
him.  She  contrasted  with  the  soullessness  of  his  wife. 
She  was  often  his  as  well  as  her  husband's  amanuensis. 
She  drank  in  every  word  of  patriotic  fervour,  and  re- 
doubled it.  Her  courage  spoke  to  his ;  so  did  her  com- 
passion and  energy.  Together  they  received  the 
Maltese  deputies.  Together  they  listened,  in  disguise, 
to  the  talk  of  Sicilian  taverns.  Together  they  also 
went  on  errands  of  mercy.  From  the  Queen  she  car- 
ried him  perpetual  information  and  praise.  Through 
her  and  her  husband  he  was  able  to  work  on  Acton. 
Every  British  officer  that  landed  with  advices  or  des- 
patches, every  friendly  though  foreign  crew,  was  wel- 
comed at  the  table  over  which  Emma  presided.  No 
veriest  trifle  that  could  assist  them  ever  escaped  her. 
Indeed,  her  lavish  hospitality  and  the  noisy  heartiness 
of  the  coming  and  going  guests  oppressed  the  Ambas- 
sador, who  sighed  on  the  eve  of  superannuation  for 
home  and  quiet,  for  the  excitements  of  Christie's,  and 
the  fisherman's  tranquil  diplomacy.  It  was  not  the 
toils  of  the  huntress  that  ensnared  Nelson.  It  was 
Britain  that  demanded  his  vigilance  and  enchained  him 
here ;  while  for  him,  more  and  more,  Britain's  "  guard- 
ian angel  "  was  becoming  Emma. 

Imploring  Sir  Alexander  Ball  in  February  to  return 
from  Malta,  she  had  avowed  a  foreboding  that  "  Fate  " 
might  "  carry  "  her  "  down." 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  267 

A  great  shock  had  been  followed  by  a  great  fear. 
The  main  body  of  the  French  army  had  gone,  but  the 
Neapolitan  rebellion,  if  the  French  fleet  managed  to 
reach  and  rally  it,  might  still  engulf  them  all.  Gallo  was 
again  playing  the  King  off  against  the  Queen.  Who 
knew  what  might  happen  in  this  conspiracy  of  gods  and 
men  ?  And  when  she  presaged  some  fatality,  may  she 
not  also  have  pondered  whither  she  herself  was  now 
drifting ?  The  doom  of  Paolo  and  Francesca  may  well 
have  been  within  the  range  of  her  Italian  reading.  To 
the  complexity  of  her  feelings  I  shall  revert  when  I 
come  to  the  events  of  a  month  afterwards.  Only  two 
years  later  she  and  Nelson  were  thus  to  poeticise  the 
affection  that  was  now  ripening : — 

LORD  NELSON  TO  His  GUARDIAN  ANGEL. 

"From   my  best   cable  tho"   I'm   forced  to  part, 
I  leave  my  anchor  in  my  Angel's  heart. 
Love,  like  a  pilot,  shall  the  pledge  defend, 
And  for  a  prong  his  happiest  quiver  lend." 

ANSWER  OF  LORD  NELSON'S  GUARDIAN  ANGEL. 

"  Go  where  you  list,  each  thought  of  Emma's  soul 
Shall  follow  you  from  Indus  to  the  Pole : 
East,  West,  North,  South,  our  minds  shall  never  part; 
Your  Angel's  loadstone  shall  be  Nelson's  heart. 

Farewell!  and  o'er  the  wide,  wide  sea 

Bright   glory's    course   pursue, 
And  adverse  winds  to  love  and  me 

Prove  fair  to  fame  and  you. 
And  when  the  dreaded  hour  of  battle's  nigh, 
Your  Angel's  heart,  which  trembles  at  a  sigh, 
By  your  superior  danger  bolder  grown, 
Shall  dauntless  place  itself  before  your  own. 
Happy,  thrice  happy,  should  her  fond  heart  prove— 
A  shield  to  Valour,  Constancy,  and  Love." 

But  a  fresh  influence  was  also,  may  be,  about  to  steal 
into  her  being.  To  the  pinch  of  adversity  and  her 
misgivings  for  the  Queen  she  loved,  was  now  being 


268 

added  the  stress  of  a  passion  half  realised  but  hard  to 
resist.  She  would  not  have  been  the  emotional  woman 
that  she  was,  if  in  some  shape,  however  dimly,  religion 
as  consoler  had  not  whispered  in  the  recesses  of  her 
heart.  Hitherto  among  her  immediate  surroundings 
only  Nelson  could  have  been  called  really  religious.  He 
was  a  strong  Protestant.  But  as  she  beheld  the  Queen 
comforted  by  an  older  ritual  and  a  communion  less 
severe,  it  may  have  crossed  her  mind  that  the  cere- 
monies which  she  had  mocked  as  superstitions  held  in 
them  some  rare  power  of  healing.  Southern  religion 
thrives  on  its  adopted  and  hybrid  forms,  as  to  this  day 
is  attested  by  Sicilian  peasants  hugging  the  image  of 
their  swarthy  saint;  Sicilian  reapers  chanting  their 
weird  litany  to  the  sinking  sun ;  Sicilian  farmers  meting 
out  their  harvested  grain  by  their  image  of  the  rosaried 
Madonna.  There  was  at  this  time  at  Palermo  an 
Abbe  Campbell,  who  had  followed  the  fugitives  thither- 
ward. Twelve  years  before,  he  had  been  chaplain  to 
the  Neapolitan  Embassy  in  London,  and  is  said  to  have 
been  the  priest  who  secretly  united  the  future  George 
IV.  to  Mrs.  Fitzherbert.  He  was  a  genial  soul,  in  the 
world  but  not  wholly  of  it,  musical  and  romantic.  He 
remained  constant  to  Emma  throughout  her  chequered 
fortunes,  and  in  future  years  he  often  crosses  her  path 
again  and  Nelson's.  One  may  guess  that  through  him 
first  arose  those  promptings  that  eventually  made 
Emma  a  proselyte  to  the  faith  that,  perhaps  above 
others,  openly  welcomes  the  strayed  and  the  fallen. 

Troubridge  girded  to  his  work  as  Jacobin-killer  in 
grim  earnest.  The  Governor  of  Procida,  its  peasants 
and  Ischia's,  were  loyal  to  the  core.  The  English 
sailor  was  acclaimed  by  the  people  as  a  deliverer  from 
a  faction;  and  he  was  not  over-squeamish  in  his  task  of 
quelling  what  Lord  Bristol  termed  to  Hamilton  "  that 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  269 

gang  of  thieves,  pickpockets,  highwaymen,  cut-throats 
and  cut-purses  called  the  French  Republic."  "Oh!" 
wrote  Troubridge  to  Nelson,  "  how  I  long  to  have  a 
dash  at  the  thieves."  And  again,  "  The  villainy  we 
must  combat  is  great  indeed.  I  have  just  flogged  a 
rascal  for  loading  bread  with  sand.  The  loaf  was 
hung  round  his  neck  in  sight  of  the  people."  The 
"  trials  "  of  rebels  he  admits  to  be  "  curious,"  as  the 
culprits  were  frequently  "  not  present."  He  actually 
apologised  to  Nelson,  on  the  score  of  hot  weather,  for 
not  sending  him  a  Jacobin's  head ;  with  charming  pleas- 
antry he  calls  the  donor  "  a  jolly  fellow."  The  "  ras- 
cally nobles,  tired  of  standing  as  common  sentinels," 
confessed  that  sheer  discomfort  had  loyalised  them. 
Even  here  Lady  Hamilton's  energy  was  conspicuous. 
She  exerted  herself  for  the  Queen  in  communicating 
with  the  island,  while  Troubridge  in  his  turn  for- 
warded documents  to  her.  She  had  got  conveyed  to 
him  a  letter  from  the  Queen  intended  for  Pignatelli. 
The  bearer,  Troubridge's  servant,  was  loaded  by  the 
noble  with  irons.  "  I  trust  before  long,"  Troubridge 
exclaimed,  "  I  shall  have  a  pull  at  his  nose  for  it.  I 
have  two  or  three  to  settle  with  if  we  get  in."  He  was 
"  mad "  at  the  infamous  conduct  of  the  officers 
despatched  to  him  by  the  King.  They  had  violated 
discipline,  and  a  promise  was  given  that  they  should  be 
court-martialled.  But  the  most  important  statement 
of  his  despatches  to  Nelson  relates  to  Caracciolo,  who 
must  have  been  trusted,  or  he  would  not  have  been  suf- 
fered to  return  home  whether  his  errand  was  his  own 
or  his  master's.  "  I  am  now  satisfied,"  declares  Trou- 
bridge, "  that  he  is  a  Jacobin.  He  came  in  the  gun- 
boat to  Castellamare  himself  and  spirited  up  the 
Jacobins."  By  April  7  Troubridge  had  reduced  the 
Neapolitan  islands. 

Prospects  at  last  looked  brighter.     Ruffo  had  nearly 


270  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

subdued  the  provinces,  and  the  Austrians  at  length,  in 
formal  alliance  with  Naples,  Russia,  and  the  Porte,  had 
rejoiced  the  Queen  by  their  victory  at  Padua.  It  was 
commemorated  by  a  salute  from  the  British  fleet.  The 
Bishop  of  Derry — now  at  Augsburg — communicated 
the  news  to  Emma  in  an  amusing  letter,  which  opens 
with  her  own  favourite  "  Hip,  hip,  hip,  huzza,  huzza, 
huzza !  "  Ball  was  now  pushing  forward  the  Maltese 
operations,  while  Duckworth  had  been  active  near  the 
Balearic  islands.  On  every  point  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean compass  Nelson  kept  his  watchful  eye.  But 
for  him  the  Mediterranean  was  mainly  a  theatre  for 
the  as  yet  invisible  French  frigates.  The  spectre  of 
that  squadron  haunted  him  by  night  and  day ;  he  han- 
kered after  the  moment  when  he  could  re-attack  it.  It 
was  for  him  what  Godolphin  was  for  Charles  the  Sec- 
ond— never  in  and  never  out  of  the  way. 

Early  in  May,  the  brig  L'Espoir  brought  Nelson  the 
glad  tidings  that  the  French  fleet  had  quitted  Brest, 
and  had  been  seen  off  Oporto.  He  at  once  concerted 
plans  with  Lord  St.  Vincent,  Troubridge,  and  Duck- 
worth. It  was  said  to  consist  at  most  of  nineteen 
ships  and  ten  frigates  or  sloops.  Its  destination  was 
unknown.  By  May  its  junction  with  the  ships  of 
Spain  had  been  notified. 

Nelson  made  sure  that  the  Two  Sicilies  were  in- 
tended, and  that  France  still  hoped  by  one  decisive 
stroke  to  end  at  once  monarchy  and  independence.  He 
pressed  Lord  St.  Vincent  on  no  account  to  remove  him 
from  the  impending  action,  wherever  it  might  take 
place.  He  feared  that  St.  Vincent's  failing  health, 
which  necessitated  his  resignation,  might  help  the 
French  to  elude  the  commander's  vigilance.  In  the 
end,  elude  it  they  did. 

He  resolved  to  cruise  off  Maritimo  as  the  likeliest 
point  of  sight,  and  on  May  13  he  was  on  board  the 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  271 

Vanguard.  But  contrary  winds  intervened,  and  kept 
him  waiting  for  Duckworth's  vessels  till  the  2Oth,  to  his 
keen  vexation.  His  absence  heightened  the  attach- 
ment with  which  he  had  inspired  the  Hamiltons.  "  I 
can  assure  you,"  wrote  Hamilton  amid  the  festivities 
that  even  at  such  a  moment  celebrated  the  birth  of  a 
son  to  the  Imperial  House  of  Austria,  "  I  can  assure 
you  that  neither  Emma  nor  I  knew  how  much  we  loved 
you  until  this  separation,  and  we  are  convinced  your 
Lordship  feels  the  same  as  we  do."  And  on  other  oc- 
casions Sir  William  writes  to  Nelson  most  intimately 
and  admiringly,  dating  one  of  his  letters  "  near  wind- 
ing-up-watch  hour."  Two  of  his  three  remaining 
letters  to  Emma,  before  he  started,  open  a  little  win- 
dow both  on  to  the  interior  of  the  Hamiltons'  menage 
and  of  his  own  heart.  On  the  I2th  he  writes : — 

"  MY  DEAR  LADY  HAMILTON, — Accept  my  sincere 
thanks  for  your  kind  letter.  Nobody  writes  so  well: 
therefore  pray  say  not  you  write  ill;  for  if  you  do,  I 
will  say  what  your  goodness  sometimes  told  me — '  You 
lie ! '  I  can  read  and  perfectly  understand  every  word 
you  write.  We  drank  your  and  Sir  William's  health. 
Troubridge,  Louis,  Hallowell  and  the  new  Portuguese 
captain  dined  here.  I  shall  soon  be  at  Palermo,  for 
this  business  must  very  soon  be  settled.  ...  I  am 
pleased  with  little  Mary:  kiss  her  for  me.  I  thank 
all  the  house  for  their  regard.  God  bless  you  all!  I 
shall  send  on  shore  if  fine  to-morrow;  for  the  feluccas 
are  going  to  leave  us,  and  I  am  sea-sick.  I  have  got 
the  piece  of  wood  for  the  tea-chest:  it  shall  soon  be 
sent.  Pray,  present  my  humble  duty  and  gratitude  to 
the  Queen." 

On  the  iQth — 

"  To  tell  you  how  dreary  and  uncomfortable  the 
Vanguard  appears,  is  only  telling  you  what  it  is  to  go 


272  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

from  the  pleasantest  society  to  a  solitary  cell,  or  from 
the  dearest  friends  to  no  friends.  I  am  now  perfectly 
the, great  man — not  a  creature  near  me.  From  my 
heart  I  wish  myself  the  little  man  again!  You  and 
good  Sir  William  have  spoiled  me  for  any  place  but 
with  you.  I  love  Mrs.  Cadogan.  You  cannot  con- 
ceive what  I  feel  when  I  call  you  all  to  my  remem- 
brance, even  to  Mira,  do  not  forget  your  faithful  and 
affectionate,  Nelson." 

Indeed,  all  these  days  he  was  in  constant  corre- 
spondence with  the  Hamiltons.  On  May  25,  so  great 
was  his  admiration  for  them,  that  he  drew  up  his 
first  codicil — a  precursor  of  many  to  come — in  their 
favour.  To  Emma  he  bequeathed  "  the  nearly  round 
box "  set  with  diamonds,  the  gift  of  the  Sultan's 
mother;  to  her  husband  fifty  guineas  for  a  memorial 
ring.  For  his  risks  were  now  great;  he  carried  his 
life  in  his  hands.  The  French  contingent  should  still 
be  found :  his  efforts  were  bent  on  more  ships,  that 
success  might  be  assured  when  the  clash  of  arms  must 
recur. 

Up  to  May  28,  when  he  again  landed  at  Palermo,  he 
was  still  without  sight,  without  result,  though  not 
wholly  without  effect.  He  resolved  to  withdraw  some 
ships  from  Malta  and  concentrate  his  whole  forces. 
On  June  8,  as  Rear-Admiral  of  the  Red,  he  had  shifted 
from  the  Vanguard  to  the  Foudroyant.  By  June  12 
he  heard  of  Lord  St.  Vincent's  intention  to  return 
home,  and  his  replacement  by  Lord  Keith,  with 
genuine  distress.  "  If  you  are  sick,"  he  wrote  to  him, 
"  I  will  fag  for  you,  and  our  dear  Lady  Hamilton  will 
nurse  you  with  the  most  affectionate  attention.  Good 
Sir  William  will  make  you  laugh  with  his  wit  and  in- 
exhaustible pleasantry.  .  .  .  Come  then  to  your  sin- 
cere friends." 

Still  not  a  glimpse  of  the  French  fleet.     But  large 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  273 

issues  were  pending.  The  very  day  before  the  date 
of  this  invitation  to  his  commander,  the  Queen  herself 
addressed  to  him  a  pleading  letter.  The  state  of 
Naples,  the  uncertainty  as  to  the  enemy's  movements, 
had  decided  her  on  a  definite  plan.  An  expedition, 
forestalling  the  arrival  of  the  Gallic  squadron,  might 
strike  a  bloodless  blow.  The  bloodshed  even  of  her 
enemies  was  far,  she  urged,  from  her  thoughts.  The 
heir-apparent,  as  representative  of  his  family,  would 
accompany  him  and  chafe  the  embers  of  Neapolitan 
loyalty  into  a  blaze.  "  Other  duties  "  obliged  her  to 
remain  at  Palermo.  He  would  earn  the  "  sincere  and 
profound  gratitude  "  of  his  "  devoted  friend."  At  the 
same  time — and  this  is  the  key  to  after  events — Fer- 
dinand himself  conferred  on  him  the  fullest  powers. 
In  every  sense  of  the  word  he  was  to  be  his  pleni- 
potentiary. Already  a  month  before,  Nelson  had 
despatched  Foote  with  a  commission  to  reduce  the 
mainland,  as  Troubridge  had  reduced  the  islands. 
Foote,  Thurn,  and  Governor  Curtis  had  already  issued 
their  proclamation  of  a  Neapolitan  blockade,  and  had 
bidden  the  insurgents  take  advantage  of  clemency 
while  there  was  yet  time.  Had  they  only  complied,  a 
chapter  of  misery  would  have  been  avoided;  but,  di- 
vided as  they  were,  they  still  trusted  to  the  invisible 
French  fleet.  Short  shrift  was  to  be  granted  to  rebels 
and  traitors.  Only  the  misguided  and  the  innocent 
were  to  be  spared.  Already  Foote  reported  that  thir- 
teen Jacobins  had  been  hung.  The  Queen  poured  out 
her  renewed  hopes  and  prayers  to  Lady  Hamilton. 

Emma  was  all  devotion  and  excitement,  yet  misgiv- 
ings blent  with  her  hopes.  Who  could  foretell  the 
issues?  After  all,  the  moment  must  decide.  And 
who  could  foresee  her  own  part  in  this  great  struggle  ? 
Out  of  a  narrow  room  she  had  been  lifted  into  the 
spheres.  Even  as  she  pondered,  Greville — Greville 


274  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

of  the  suburban  "  retreat " — was  writing  to  her  hus- 
band that  the  eyes  of  Europe  were  now  fixed  on  Italy. 
He  had  already  been  trumpeting  her  own  achievements 
to  the  Prince  of  Wales :  "  Many  and  all  "  admired 
her  much;  she  had  been  "  instrumental  in  good." 
"  Tell  Lady  Hamilton,"  was  his  message,  "  with  my 
kindest  remembrances,  that  all  her  friends  love  her 
more  than  ever,  and  those  who  did  not  know  her  ad- 
mire her."  Greville,  then,  had  at  length  learned  to 
know  her  worth.  His  "  crystals  "  would  hardly  have 
weighed  in  the  scale  if,  thirteen  years  ago,  his  ap- 
praisement had  been  one  of  insight. 

Nelson  responded  to  the  Queen  with  all  his  heart. 
His  zeal  quickened  with  uncertainty.  Lady  Hamil- 
ton was  the  Queen's  friend,  and  Lady  Hamilton's 
friends  were  his.  Maria  Carolina  was  "  a  great 
woman,"  and  greatness  was  his  affinity.  He  thought 
in  dominants — the  predominance  of  his  country;  and 
Naples  loyalised  would  signify  France  quelled.  Ruffo 
was  fast  advancing  from  the  provinces  against  the  for- 
sworn city.  The  Neapolitan  Jacobins  were  on  tenter- 
hooks for  even  an  inkling  of  the  French  squadron, 
their  deliverer.  What  Nelson  dreaded  was  that  the 
Franco-Hispanian  force  might  be  joined  by  ships  from 
Toulon.  In  that  event  he  would  be  fighting  against 
heavy  odds;  and  his  "principle,"  as  he  afterwards  as- 
sured Lord  Spencer,  "  was  to  assist  in  driving  the 
French  to  the  devil,  and  in  restoring  peace  and  happi- 
ness to  mankind." 

And  still  of  that  veiled  flotilla  not  a  token. 

It  was  reported  as  bearing  on  the  Italian  coast.  Nel- 
son had  been  eager  to  set  off  within  about  a  week  of 
the  Queen's  appeal.  That  appeal  decided  him  to  wait 
one  week  longer.  Maria  Carolina  was  impatient  for  a 
second  Aboukir,  and  for  such  a  stroke  reinforcements 
were  needed.  On  June  12  he  and  Sir  William  were 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  275 

still  concerting  their  plans.  The  Queen  now  used  the 
Hamiltons  for  her  purposes  and  urged  them  to  fasten 
her  champion's  resolve  by  accompanying  him.  Emma 
was  ill,  worn  with  inward  struggle  and  suspense;  her 
patroness  was  perpetually  and  anxiously  inquiring 
after  her  health,  Sir  William  was  almost  prostrate  with 
indisposition.  He  wrote  that  Emma  "  was  unwell  and 
low-spirited  with  phantoms  in  her  fertile  brain  that 
torment  her  .  .  .  too  much  Sensibility  " ;  he  hoped 
Nelson  was  not  "  fretting "  his  "  guts  to  fiddle- 
strings."  Emma  shrank  from  the  turbid  scenes  that 
she  would  be  called  upon  to  interpret  and  to  encounter ; 
she  also  dimly  dreaded  the  results  of  constant  associa- 
tion with  her  hero.  But  her  knowledge  of  men,  cir- 
cumstances, and  language  would  be  indispensable  on 
this  fateful  errand,  and  already  on  June  12  she  thus,  as 
Queen's  advocate,  besought  Nelson: — 

"  Thursday  evening,  June  12. 

"  I  have  been  with  the  Queen  this  evening.  She  is 
very  miserable,  and  says,  that  although  the  people  of 
Naples  are  for  them  in  general,  yet  things  will  not  be 
brought  to  that  state  of  quietness  and  subordination 
till  the  Fleet  of  Lord  Nelson  appears  off  Naples.  She 
therefore  begs,  intreats,  and  conjures  you,  my  dear 
Lord,  if  it  is  possible,  to  arrange  matters  so  as  to 
be  able  to  go  to  Naples.  Sir  William  is  writing  for 
General  Acton's  answer.  For  God's  sake  consider  it, 
and  do!  We  will  go  with  you  if  you  will  come  and 
fetch  us. 

"Sir  William  is  ill;  I  am  ill:  it  will  do  us  good. 
God  bless  you!  Ever,  ever,  yours  sincerely." 

The  Queen's  insistence,  Emma's  mediation,  per- 
meate every  line.  Just  after  this  manner,  some  thir- 
teen years  earlier,  the  mimic  Muse  had  echoed  Greville 


276  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

in  her  answer  to  the  invitation  that  first  lured  her  to 
Naples. 

Her  heart  was  heavy  with  forebodings.  She  would 
have  much  to  do  and  perhaps  to  suffer.  She  was 
charged  with  a  triple  task :  to  rehabilitate  the  Queen,  to 
single  out  the  traitors  from  the  true  amongst  the 
notables,  to  assist  Nelson  in  his  "  campaign."  She 
knew  that  the  risk  would  be  great  and  the  nervous 
strain  severe.  Privately,  as  well  as  publicly,  she  feared 
the  uncertain  upshot.  Her  phases  of  mind  and  mood 
and  memory  all  joined  in  bodying  forth  the  future. 
For  thirteen  years  not  a  breath  of  scandal  had  sullied 
her  name.  She  had  long,  indeed,  been  held  up  as  a. 
pattern  of  conjugal  virtue.  Yet  Josiah  Nisbet,  the 
boy  whom  both  she  and  his  stepfather  had  generously 
helped  and  forgiven,  far  more  and  oftener  indeed  than 
his  own  mother,  was  already  tattling  to  that  mother  of 
the  Calypso  who  was  detaining  Ulysses.  Hitherto  she 
could  honestly  acquit  herself  of  the  imputation.  So 
much  that  was  glorious  had  happened  in  so  few 
months,  that  her  tender  friendship  had  been  absorbed 
by  memories  and  reveries  of  glory.  And  for  her, 
glory  meant  honour.  This  is  the  clue  to  her  nature. 
To  honour  she  fancied  that  she,  like  Nelson,  was 
dedicating  existence.  And  now,  even  while  she  justi- 
fied to  herself  the  chances  in  relation  to  her  own  hus- 
band by  the  thought  of  a  past  debt  amply  repaid,  she 
paused  on  the  threshold  of  the  irreparable,  as  the  pale 
face  of  Nelson's  unknown  wife  rose  up  before  her. 
She  had  been  only  stiff  and  condescending  to  Emma's 
warm-hearted  advances  immediately  after  the  battle 
of  the  Nile.  Was  this  cold  partner  jealous  then,  and 
spiteful  without  an  overt  cause?  Let  her  covert  sus- 
picions dare  their  worst;  Emma  would  brave  them 
out.  And  another  and  higher  feeling  mixed  with  her 
agitations.  She  was  quitting  her  much-loved  mother, 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  277 

by  whom  she  had  always  stood  loyally,  even  when 
most  to  her  disadvantage ;  by  whom  she  was  always  to 
stand;  whom,  if  that  French  navy  fell  in  with  them, 
she  might  possibly  never  see  again.  "  My  mother," 
she  wrote  when  all  was  over,  "  is  at  Palermo,  longing 
to  see  her  Emma.  You  can't  think  how  she  is  loved 
and  respected  by  all.  She  has  adopted  a  mode  of  liv- 
ing that  is  charming.  She  has  good  apartments  in  our 
house,  always  lives  with  us,  dines,  etc.  etc.  Only  when 
she  does  not  like  it  (for  example  at  great  dinners) 
she  herself  refuses,  and  has  always  a  friend  to  dine 
with  her;  and  the  Signora  Madre  dell'  Ambasciatrice 
is  known  all  over  Palermo,  the  same  as  she  was  at 
Naples.  The  Queen  has  been  very  kind  to  her  in  my 
absence,  and  went  to  see  her,  and  told  her  she  ought  to 
be  proud  of  her  glorious  and  energick  daughter,  that 
has  done  so  much  in  these  last  suffering  months." 
Other  chords  in  her  being  might  be  snapped  asunder 
and  replaced,  but  at  least  this  pure  note  of  daughterly 
devotion  would  never  fail. 

And  if  Emma  was  at  once  happy  and  tormented,  so 
now  was  Nelson.  He  was  racked  alike  by  hopes  and 
fears.  His  love  for  her  was  gradually  vanquishing 
his  allegiance  to  his  wife,  and  his  heart  was  fast  tri- 
umphing over  his  conscience.  He  had  not  yet  per- 
suaded himself  that  his  love  accorded  with  the  scheme 
divine,  that  his  formal  marriage  was  no  longer  con- 
secrated, and  that  to  profane  it  was  not  to  profane 
a  sacrament.  It  was  barely  a  year  since  Captain  Hal- 
lowell  had  presented  him  with  the  coffin  framed  out 
of  his  Egyptian  spoils — a  memento  mori  indeed. 
Every  one  remembers  the  strain  of  dejection  about  this 
date  in  his  home  letters,  which  have  been  constantly 
cited  from  Southey.  "  There  is,"  he  wrote,  "  no  true 
happiness  in  this  life,  and  in  my  present  state  I  could 
quit  it  with  a  smile."  He  protested  the  same  to  his 


278  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

old  friend  Davison,  adding  that  his  sole  wish  was  to 
"  sink  with  honour  into  the  grave."  On  the  one  side 
beckoned  the  French  enemy  and  Emma,  on  the  other 
the  offended  Fanny,  his  pious  father,  and  the  call  of 
God. 

While,  however,  both  the  cause  of  his  heart  and  the 
voice  that  it  loved  were  thus  pleading  with  its  doubts 
and  anxieties,  vexation  also  spurred  him  into  ir- 
retrievable decision.  Lord  Keith's  interfering  sum- 
mons to  Minorca  had  reached  him.  These  orders  he 
resented  and  disobeyed,  as  he  had  so  often  disobeyed 
unwarrantable  orders  before.  Minorca  was  a  baga- 
telle compared  with  the  big  issues  now  at  stake,  and 
Minorca,  moreover,  was  by  this  time  comparatively 
safe.  "  I  will  take  care,"  he  was  soon  to  write,  "  that 
no  superior  fleet  shall  annoy  it,  but  many  other  coun- 
tries are  entrusted  to  my  care."  Jacobinism,  the 
French  fleet — these  were  the  dangers  for  Britain  and 
for  Europe.  His  reply  was  that  the  "  best  defence  " 
was  to  "  place  himself  alongside  the  French."  He  ap- 
pealed from  Lord  St.  Vincent's  meddlesome  successor 
to  Lord  St.  Vincent.  "  I  cannot  think  myself  justi- 
fied in  exposing  the  world — I  may  almost  say — to  be 
plundered  by  these  miscreants  ...  I  trust  your  lord- 
ship will  not  think  me  wrong  .  .  .  for  agonised  in- 
deed was  the  mind  of  your  lordship's  faithful  and  af- 
fectionate servant."  These  were  no  sophistries,  and 
"  wrong "  St.  Vincent  certainly  never  held  him.  It 
was  not  long  before  he  learned  that  Lord  Keith  him- 
self had  sailed  in  search  of  the  fleet  which  unluckily  he 
never  found.  Nelson  still  believed  Naples  to  be  that 
fleet's  objective,  and  in  this  conviction  many  private 
advices  supported  him.  But  more  than  all,  his  resolve 
to  vindicate  royalty  against  Jacobinism  was  strength- 
ened by  the  fact  that  at  this  very  moment  his  own, 
and  Emma's,  grave  suspicions  concerning  Cardinal 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  279 

Ruffo's  misuse  of  his  powers  were  being  strikingly 
confirmed  by  new  and  startling  reports;  while  at  the 
same  time  another  Austrian  success  at  Spezzia  had 
fortified  afresh  the  cause  of  loyalty.  He  discerned  the 
moment  for  reclaiming  the  hotbed  of  Jacobinism.  His 
mind  was  fixed.  He  would  go. 

On  June  13,  then,  he  embarked  the  young  Crown 
Prince  in  the  Foudroyant  and  hastened  off  once  again, 
while  the  Hamiltons  remained  behind.  The  King  had 
apparently  forbidden  the  Queen  to  revisit  the  scene  of 
disgrace,  and  reserved  his  own  appearance  for  the 
necessity  which  Ruffo's  double-dealing,  that  he  still 
half-discredited,  might  entail.  But  on  learning  definite 
news  near  Maritime  that  the  French  fleet  in  full  force 
had  at  length  got  out  of  Toulon,  and  was  now  actu- 
ally bound  for  the  south  coast,  Nelson  at  once  tacked, 
and  once  more  returned  to  Palermo  to  gain  time  for 
Ball's  and  Duckworth's  further  reinforcements.  He 
arrived  the  next  day,  and,  to  the  Queen's  infinite  sur- 
prise, landed  her  son,  who  was  at  once  taken  by  her  to 
his  father  at  Colli.  Though  Nelson  still  feared  for 
Sicily,  he  had  hoped  to  have  re-departed  immediately, 
but  calms  and  obstacles  intervened.  Now  that  he  was 
certain  of  his  mission,  he  welcomed  the  company  and 
invaluable  aid  of  the  Hamiltons,  whose  entreaties  had 
overborne  his  consideration  for  their  health  and  safety. 
Yet  even  now  he  would  not  receive  them  until  he  had 
made  a  fourth  cruise  of  hurried  survey  and  final 
preparation  to  the  islands  of  Maritimo  and  Ustica.  He 
started,  therefore,  on  June  16,  but  five  mornings  after- 
wards he  again  heard  from  Hamilton  the  momentous 
certainty  that  Ruffo  had  dared  to  conclude  a  definite 
armistice  with  the  Neapolitan  rebels ;  while  he  also 
learned  that  the  Jacobins  were  bragging  that  his  re- 
turn to  Palermo  was  due  to  fear  of  the  French  fleet. 
The  policy  of  the  Cardinal  and  the  insolence  of  the 


280 

rebels  allowed  not  a  moment  to  be  lost.  Forthwith 
he  left  his  squadron  once  more  and  reached  Palermo  in 
the  afternoon.  A  council  was  immediately  held. 
Ruffo,  who,  despite  the  despatches  heralding  Nelson's 
voyage,  had  probably  counted  on  his  many  false  starts, 
received  warning  of  his  imminent  approach;  the  Ham- 
iltons,  in  the  full  flush  of  excitement,  were  conveyed  on 
board  the  Foudroyant;  Nelson,  still  longing  for  that 
unconscionable  fleet  and  reinvested  by  the  King  with 
unlimited  powers,  started  at  once  to  cancel  the  in- 
famous compact.  That  same  evening  he  had  rejoined 
his  command  off  Ustica.  By  noon  on  the  22nd  the 
united  squadron  weighed  anchor  for  Naples — "  stealing 
on,"  wrote  Hamilton  to  Acton,  "with  light  winds," 
and  "  I  believe  the  business  will  soon  be  done." 

These  dates  and  details  have  been  minutely  followed, 
as  tending  to  establish  that  what  really  decided  Nel- 
son's movements  was  the  dearest  wish  of  his  heart — 
the  honour  and  interest  of  Great  Britain.  After  sup- 
pressing the  enemies  of  all  authority  and  order,  he 
still  hoped  to  fall  in  with  the  long-hunted  French  fleet, 
and  to  deal  a  death-blow  to  the  universal  enemy.  All 
along,  his  convictions  and  motives  must  be  taken  into 
account  before  the  tribunal  of  history.  It  would  never 
have  been  insinuated  that  he  was  a  renegade  to  duty  in 
making  Palermo  the  base  of  his  many  operations,  and 
the  Neapolitan  dynasty  the  touchstone  of  his  country's 
cause,  if  Lady  Hamilton  had  not  been  in  Sicily;  in 
Sicily  he  neither  tarried  nor  dallied.  To  estimate  his 
conduct,  one  should  inquire  if  his  policy  could  have 
been  called  dereliction  supposing  her  to  have  been 
eliminated  from  its  scene.  And  what  applies  to  him  in 
these  matters  henceforward  applies  to  Emma,  whose 
whole  soul  is  fast  becoming  coloured  by  his.  For  a 
space  she  must  now  act  a  minor,  though  by  no  means, 
as  will  soon  appear,  a  supernumerary  part,  as  his  col- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  281 

league  in  the  real  tragedy  that  now  opens  before 
us. 

Thus  at  last  he,  with  the  Hamiltons,  set  sail  on  an 
errand  which  has  constantly  been  described  as  tarnish- 
ing his  fame. 

Mr.  Gutteridge's  scholarlike  and  impartial  review  of 
all  the  intricate  facts  and  documents  has  proved  that 
Nelson  neither  exceeded  his  powers  nor  violated  his 
conscience.  In  championing  the  royal  house  of  Naples 
he  was  as  entirely  consistent  with  the  declared  policy  of 
his  country  as  with  his  own  convictions.  His  error, 
if  any,  was  one  of  judgment.  In  rebellions  clemency 
is  often  the  best  policy,  and  proscription  is  always  the 
worst.  Happy  indeed  would  it  have  been  for  Naples, 
and  for  Nelson,  if  during  the  next  two  months  the 
King  had  not  intervened  as  director,  inquisitor,  and 
hangman,  if  Cardinal  Ruffo  had  not  favoured  the 
nobles  and  wished  to  restore  the  feudal  system. 

Before  the  Foudroyant  proceeds  further,  let  us 
glance  at  the  intervening  events  in  Naples. 

In  that  citadel  of  turbulence  much  had  again  hap- 
pened, and  was  happening  to  the  court's  knowledge, 
ere  Nelson  weighed  anchor  at  Palermo.  Before  May 
even,  the  successful  blockade  of  Corfu  by  the  Russians 
and  Turks  had  largely  cleared  Ruffb's  conquering 
course.  The  Austrians  and  Russians  had  prepared  to 
drive  the  French  from  Upper  Italy.  In  May,  General 
Macdonald  had  already  beaten  a  skilful  retreat  to  the 
Po,  leaving  only  a  small  detachment  behind  him  to  gar- 
rison the  Neapolitan  and  Capuan  castles.  Benvenuto 
had  welcomed  the  loyalists.  By  early  June  the  Car- 
dinal, close  to  the  city,  had  succeeded  in  intercepting 
all  communications  by  land.  Schipani,  a  royalist  of- 
ficer of  distinction,  had  disembarked  his  troops  at 
Torre  Annunziata.  The  Republican  fleet,  commanded 
by  Caracciolo,  now  a  rebel  against  his  sovereign,  had 


282  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

avoided  close  quarters;  while  that  traitor,  by  compul- 
sion as  he  pleaded,  who  two  months  ago  had  quitted 
Sicily  in  favour  with  his  master,  had  even  "fired  on  the 
flag  of  the  frigate  Minerva. 

By  the  I3th  of  June — amid  the  solemn  rites  of  the 
Lazzaroni's  other  patron,  St.  Antonio — Ruffo,  with 
his  miscellaneous  forty  thousand,  gave  battle  on  the 
side  of  Ponte  Delia  Maddalena,  and  won.  Duke  Roc- 
caromana,  the  people's  old  favourite,  was  now  one 
of  his  generals,  and  the  populace,  tired  of  bloodshed 
and  the  "  patriots,"  rejoiced  at  the  hope  of  a  royal 
restoration.  The  young  Pepe,  a  boy-prisoner,  has  left 
an  account  of  the  terrible  scenes  that  he  witnessed. 
He  saw  the  wretched  captives,  stripped  and  streaming 
with  blood,  being  dragged  along  to  confinement  in  the 
public  granary  by  the  bridge.  He  heard  the  Lazza- 
roni,  "  who  used  to  look  so  honest,  and  to  melt  as 
their  mountebanks  recited  the  woes  of  '  Rinaldo,' 
shrieking  and  howling."  He  watched  the  clergy  whip- 
ping the  rabble  with  their  words,  till  they  threw  stones 
at  the  miserable  prisoners.  Some  of  them  Ruffo  had 
to  protect  from  brutal  assaults.  These  were  thrown 
into  hospitals,  all  filth  and  disorder;  while  others 
feigned  insanity  to  gain  even  this  doubtful  privilege. 
He  beheld  Vincenzo  Ruvo,  the  "  Cato  "  of  the  "  patri- 
ots," and  Jerocades,  their  "  Father,"  bruised  and 
bound;  and  he  marked,  huddled  and  draggled  among 
their  comrades,  the  "  four  poets,"  feebly  striving  to 
animate  their  starved  spirits  by  snatches  of  broken 
song.  He  learned  that  the  Castellamare  garrison  had 
also  succumbed,  but,  above  all,  that  Ruffo  and 
Micheroux,  a  most  intriguing  agent  for  his  Russian 
allies,  were  at  last  ready  to  grant  a  demand  expressed 
by  some  of  the  "  patriots  "  for  a  "  truce  "  so  as  to  end 
this  pandemonium,  and  to  arrange  some  terms  of  "  cap- 
itulation "  for  the  castles  still  in  rebel  occupation. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  283 

Terms  of  any  kind  the  Lazzaroni,  on  their  side,  ve- 
hemently resisted ;  Ruffo  was  even  accused  of  caballing 
to  place  his  own  brother  on  the  throne.  Nelson's  own 
views  of  such  unsanctioned  capitulation  had  already 
been  strikingly  exemplified  by  his  manifesto  at  Malta 
in  the  previous  October — a  point  to  which  special  at- 
tention should  be  drawn.  Capitulation  the  French  still 
stoutly  rejected.  Mejean,  commandant  of  the  French 
garrison  in  St.  Elmo,  still  defended  the  dominating 
fortress,  from  which  Ruffo  would  now  have  to  dislodge 
him  at  the  risk  of  the  town's  destruction.  Their  single 
hope  was  for  a  glimpse  of  the  French  fleet,  which  was 
as.  much  the  object  of  their  yearning  as  Nelson's. 
Counting  on  this,  in  their  sore  straits  they  had  refused 
every  conciliatory  overture.  Counting  on  this  again, 
Mejean's  aim  was  to  gain  time  by  the  threat  that  he 
would  fire  on  the  town  unless  Ruffo  forbore  to  attack 
him.  When  on  June  24  the  first  sight  of  Nelson's 
ships  was  descried  in  the  distance,  the  "  patriots " 
cheered  to  the  echo.  They  deemed  it  was  St.  Louis  to 
the  rescue.  To  their  dismay  it  proved  St.  George. 

Micheroux's  name,  Ruffo's  truce,  and  Nelson's  ar- 
rival must  recall  us  to  what  Captain  Foote  of  the 
Seahorse  had  been  doing  in  the  interval.  He  appears 
as  no  diplomatist,  but  a  most  humane  and  honourable 
seaman.  His  powers  had  been  strictly  limited.  He, 
like  Troubridge,  was  a  suppressor  of  rebellion.  He  was 
to  co-operate  with  the  Russians  in  the  Neapolitan 
blockade.  He  does  not  seem  to  have  been  told  by 
Ruffo — who  had  already  received  the  second  of  several 
warnings — that  since  the  insurgents  had  rejected 
initial  offers,  no  armistice  whatever  could  be  enter- 
tained. In  the  event,  Ruffo  and  the  Russians  over- 
bore him. 

Already,  on  June  13  and  14,  Foote  had  been  assist- 
ing Ruffo  and  his  generals  in  a  series  of  battles  on  the 


284  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

coast,  all  of  which  had  proved  decisive  discomfitures 
for  the  rebels.  Throughout,  Ruffo  trembled  not  only 
for  the  town,  but  lest  the  Franco-Hispanian  fleet  should 
be  on  them  like  a  thief  in  the  night.  In  disorder  both 
of  troops  and  plans,  amid  Jacobin  advisers,  he  tem- 
porised, and  pressed  on  Foote  the  need  of  terms.  He 
also  dreaded  the  results  of  the  mob-violence  displayed 
in  those  awful  scenes  on  the  Ponte  Maddalena.  "  The 
duty,"  he  informed  Acton  on  June  21,  just  before  the 
capitulations  were  signed,  "  of  controlling  a  score  of 
uneducated  and  subordinate  chiefs,  all  intent  on  plun- 
der, murder,  and  violence,  is  so  terrible  and  compli- 
cated, that  it  is  absolutely  beyond  my  powers.  .  .  . 
If  the  surrender  of  the  two  castles  is  obtained,  I  hope 
to  restore  complete  quiet."  He  may  have  used  the 
imminence  of  the  French  fleet  as  a  bogey  to. frighten 
his  coadjutors,  and  the  imminence  of  his  own  attack 
on  St.  Elmo  as  a  lever  for  persuading  the  French  com- 
mandant into  assent.  Fear  for  the  city,  for  the  situa- 
tion, possessed  him.  St.  Elmo  was  his  object,  but  he 
dreaded  the  danger  from  its  guns.  He  deemed  his 
unauthorised  compact  warranted.  Two  days  before  it 
was  in  train  Foote  had  offered  asylum  on  board  the 
Seahorse  to  the  Dell'  Uovo  garrison,  then  about  to  be 
stormed.  Its  answer  was  an  indignant  repulse :  "  We 
want  the  indivisible  Republic ;  for  the  Republic  we  will 
die!  Eloignez-vous,  citoyen,  vite,  vite,  vite!"  The 
same  day  Ruffo  himself  told  Foote  that  St.  Elmo  must 
be  assailed;  it  was  useless  now  to  think  of  capitulation. 
He  had  previously  hoped  that  both  French  and  rebels 
might  surrender  to  the  sailor,  though  they  disdained 
an  ecclesiastic.  And  yet  within  the  next  few  days  he 
was  in  close  if  unwilling  league  with  Micheroux  (the 
King's  minister  attached  to  the  Russian  forces),  whom 
he  feared  to  disoblige,  and  had  sanctioned  his  arrange- 
ment with  the  rebels,  which  was  subject  to  Mej  can's 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  285 

approval.  On  June  21  he  told  Foote  that  the  terms 
were  settled,  yet  he  then  wrote  to  Acton  that  he  did 
not  know  them.  He  kept  the  court  in  long  ignorance 
of  his  manoeuvres.  The  strain  of  difficulty  told  on 
his  nerves.  Whatever  his  motives — and  they  were 
suspected — his  action,  though  far  less  than  Miche- 
roux's,  was  plainly  equivocal,  and  while  he  mys- 
tified Foote,  he  failed  to  give  any  clear  lead  to  the 
loyalists. 

There  is  not  much  material  to  explain  the  tortuous 
negotiations  of  this  period.  The  clue  to  them  may  per- 
haps be  found  in  a  desire  to  accord  the  patriots  the 
same  honourable  terms  as  would  be  due  to  the  French. 
If  the  rebels  could  secure  these  they  would  be  more 
than  satisfied,  while  Mejean  trusted  to  time  and  the 
chance  of  the  French  squadron's  arrival.  Another 
motive  was  supplied  by  the  hostages  (including 
Micheroux's  brother  and  cousin)  and  the  refugees  in 
the  castles,  among  whom  was  Caracciolo,  who,  how- 
ever, fled.  Some  amount  of  underhand  collusion 
seems  to  have  taken  place  now  as  afterwards.  Foote 
was  perplexed  both  by  Ruffe's  contradictory  letters, 
and  by  Micheroux,  whose  authority  he  refused  to 
recognise.  On  June  19,  by  invitation,  Micheroux  at- 
tended a  conference  at  St.  Elmo,  with  Mejean,  Massa 
(commanding  the  Nuovo  Castle),  and  Ruffo.  A  draft 
capitulation  was  signed  with  an  armistice — afterwards 
extended  to  the  French — which  was  to  last  till  the  ar- 
rival of  the  boats  at  Toulon,  conveying  such  rebels  as 
elected  to  go  there,  was  notified.  The  whole  affair 
was  probably  engineered  by  Micheroux  in  close  touch 
with  Mejean.  Ruffo's  compliance  may  be  attributed 
to  the  necessities  of  his  position  and  the  importance  of 
the  Russian  troops.  He  and  Micheroux  alternately 
laid  the  blame  on  each  other's  shoulders.  By  the  23rd 
the  capitulation  itself  reached  Foote,  who  was  the  last 


286  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

to  sign,  and  did  so  under  a  protest  as  to  anything  which 
might  prejudice  his  king  and  country. 

The  document  itself  was  most  peculiar,  considering 
the  conditions  of  hostile  and  insurgent  garrisons  in  the 
face  of  a  successful  conqueror.  While  it  was  condi- 
tional on  Mejean's  approval,  it  contained  no  mention 
of  St.  Elmo,  and  it  was  attended  by  a  concurrent 
armistice,  unspecified  in  it  but  very  material  to  two 
of  its  main  provisions.  The  truce's  tenor  may  be  gath- 
ered both  from  allusions  in  letters  and  from  Nelson's 
emphatic  memorandum,  written  before  he  had  seen  it, 
but  read  to  and  rejected  by  Ruffo.  One  must  feel 
for  the  "  patriots  "  in  the  mass,  since  they  seem  to. 
have  been  ultimately  deceived,  and  many  of  them  were 
noble.  One  must  detest  the  vindictiveness  with  which 
the  royal  house  pursued  its  triumph,  though  all  that 
Jacobinism  meant  at  .the  time  should  be  recalled.  One 
must  condemn  the  violence  of  the  mob,  for  it  was 
general  and  indiscriminate.  But  both  the  duplicity 
and  the  brutality  were  the  outcome  of  the  two  despot- 
isms which  had  so  long  been  pitted  against  each  other. 
Nor  should  it  be  forgotten  that,  as  already  noticed, 
Ferdinand  himself  had  no  objection  to  treat  with  the 
French,  if  only  they  would  hand  over  St.  Elmo  to  the 
loyalists.  What  he  had  strictly  and  constantly  for- 
bidden was  any  sort  of  capitulation  for  the  rebels. 
And  lastly  it  should  be  emphasised  that,  since  on  a 
previous  occasion  the  rebels  had  broken  a  concluded 
truce,  they  might  well  repeat  that  perfidy.  The  city's 
horrors  had  been  swelled  by  the  reprisals  of  the 
Jacobins.  They  were  now,  in  Hamilton's  words,  "  re- 
duced to  a  shabby  condition,"  and  it  was  this  that  led 
them  to  listen  to  the  persuasions  of  Micheroux  and  the 
dictation  of  Mejean. 

The  terms  of  the  armistice,  according  to  Nelson's 
version  of  it,  seem  to  have  been  as  follows: — 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  287 

It  provided  for  a  truce  of  twenty-one  days,  by  the 
expiry  of  which  the  French  and  the  patriot  garrisons, 
if  unrelieved,  were  to  evacuate  Naples.  From  Sac- 
chinelli's  account  of  the  preliminaries,  their  transport 
was  to  be  free,  i.e.  at  the  King's  expense.  No  won- 
der that  Foote  found  the  terms  of  capitulation  "  very 
favourable  to  the  Republicans,"  though  he  based  his 
consent  on  the  express  grounds  that  Ruffo  was  Vice- 
roy, and  that  St.  Elmo  could  not  "  with  propriety  be 
attacked  "  till  advices  were  received  that  the  Repub- 
licans had  reached  Toulon. 

Nelson,  however,  took  a  much  stronger  view  of  this 
transaction.  All  armistices  were  reciprocal;  if  either 
party  were  "  relieved  "  or  succoured  within  a  given 
time,  a  status  quo  must  result.  This  armistice,  how- 
ever, provided,  and  on  the  most  monstrous  conditions, 
for  the  interruption  of  hostilities  pending  the  mere 
chance  of  the  enemy  being  relieved.  If  the  French 
fleet  had  appeared  instead  of  his,  no  one  could  sup- 
pose that  the  rebels  would  keep  their  word.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  King's  army  were,  as  it  was  now 
being,  "  relieved  "  by  the  British  squadron,  the  truce 
was  ipso  facto  determined.  The  very  presence  of  Nel- 
son's ships,  therefore,  annulled  this  armistice. 

So  much  for  the  truce.     Now  for  the  capitulation. 

The  troops  composing  the  garrisons  were  to  keep 
possession  of  the  forts  till  the  boats  for  their  safe-con- 
duct to  Toulon  were  ready  to  sail.  They  were  then 
to  march  out  with  all  the  honours  of  war.  Should 
they  prefer  it,  they  were  granted  the  option  of  remain- 
ing "  unmolested  "  at  Naples  instead  of  proceeding  by 
sea.  These  terms  were  to  comprise  all  prisoners  of 
war.  All  hostages  were  to  be  freed,  but  Micheroux's 
brother  and  cousin,  the  Bishop  of  Avellino,  and  the 
Archbishop  of  Salerno,  were  to  remain  in  St.  Elmo 
and  in  Me  jean's  hands,  until  the  arrival  of  those  sent 


288 

to  Toulon  should  be  ascertained.  Every  condition 
was  subject  to  the  French  Mejean's  approval.  "  They 
demand,"  wrote  the  raging  Queen  in  her  indignant 
comments,  not  "  the  approval  of  their  sovereign,  but 
the  approval  of  a  small  number  of  Frenchmen.  .  .  . 
What  an  absurdity  to  give  hostages  as  though  ^ve  were 
the  conquered !  " 

This  luckless  .treaty  it  was  that  intensified  the  mor- 
bid paroxysms  of  royal  vengeance,  for  it  converted  the 
rebels  of  Naples  into  a  foreign  enemy.  By  insisting 
on  amnesty  as  a  right,  by  leaguing  with  the  common 
foe,  by  rejecting  more  than  one  previous  offer  of 
clemency,  by  demanding  their  very  utmost,  they  for- 
feited the  least  right  to  a  grace  which,  however,  it 
would  have  been  far  better  in  equity  to  have  accorded. 
Ruffo,  by  owning  himself  unable  to  govern,  by  his 
helplessness  to  stem  the  riotous  anarchy  of  vanquish- 
ers maddened  by  the  suspicion  of  a  second  betrayal 
to  the  French,  by  his  oblique  manoeuvres,  by  his  open 
breach  of  the  royal  trust,  endangered  not  only  himself 
but  the  countrymen  whom  he  had  so  bravely  led,  and 
whom  even  now  he  desired  to  benefit. 

Such  was  the  state  of  affairs  when  Nelson,  round- 
ing the  Posilippo  point  with  his  nineteen  ships,  sailed 
into  the  bay,  drew  up  his  fleet  facing  the  harbour,  and 
eyed  the  white  flags  flying  from  the  castle  towers.  The 
Foiidroyant  was  hailed  as  an  ark  after  the  deluge.  The 
quay  was  thronged  with  cheering  loyalists.  Ruffo, 
however,  at  his  post  by  the  bridge,  must  have  been  ill 
at  ease.  Nor  could  the  Russians  have  been  pleased, 
as  they  had  reckoned  on  reaping  the  sole  credit  of  a 
clever  pacification.  The  poor  patriots  skulked  and 
trembled  in  their  fortresses.  By  night  the  whole  city 
was  all  joy  and  illuminations,  for  Naples  during  the 
last  few  years  had  proved  a  kaleidoscope  of  massacre 
and  merry-making.  Not  a  minute  was  wasted  by  Nel- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  289 

son.  He  instantly  signalled  that  the  truce  was  ended. 
To  Ruffo,  through  Hamilton,  he  communicated  his 
fixed  resolve  "  on  no  account  to  remain  neutral."  In 
accord  with  the  Queen's  advice,  first  to  require  a  volun- 
tary surrender,  he  further  proposed  to  him  that  within 
two  hours  the  French  should  be  summoned  to  sur- 
render, in  which  case  they  should  receive  a  safe- 
conduct  to  France,  but  "  as  for  the  rebels  and  traitors, 
no  power  on  earth "  should  "  stand  between  their 
gracious  King  and  them."  He  sent  Ball  and  Trou- 
bridge  with  both  these  missives  to  the  Cardinal,  who 
flatly  refused  assent  or  concert.  Next  morning  he 
sent  them  again,  with  no  better  result.  He  therefore 
himself  notified  to  Mejean  his  curt  summons  to  sur- 
render, and  to  the  rebels  in  the  two  castles  that  they 
must  yield,  and  were  forbidden  "  to  embark  or  quit 
those  places."  The  supple  Cardinal,  in  his  haste,  had 
not  only  exceeded  his  commission,  he  had  violated  his 
express  directions.  Next  evening  Ruffo  and  Miche- 
roux  (who  was  not  admitted)  visited  the  Foiidroyant 
to  confer  with  Nelson.  During  the  whole  of  this  stormy 
interview  the  Hamiltons  were  present,  Emma  acting 
as  interpretess.  Nelson  flatly  repudiated  all  the  subtle- 
ties of  one  called  by  Hamilton  the  pink  of  Italian 
finesse.  He  stood  by  the  law  that  kings  do  not  capitu- 
late to  rebels,  and  he  dismissed  Ruffo  with  his  written 
opinion  that  the  treaty  needed  to  be  ratified  by  his 
master.  An  Admiral,  he  added,  was  no  match  in 
such  matters  for  a  Cardinal. 

All  that  day  of  June  25,  letters,  conferences,  in- 
trigues, confusion  proceeded.  From  Palermo  Acton 
wrote  thrice.  The  foreign  signatories  entered  a 
formal  protest,  probably  arranged,  and  certainly  car- 
ried by  Micheroux  to  Nelson,  who  refused  to  recog- 
nise either  it  or  him.  Ruffo  threatened  to  withdraw 
his  riotous  troops,  and  advised  the  rebels  to  profit  by 


290  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

his  treaty  and  retire  by  land — a  course  fatal  for  them. 
By  night  a  trumpeter  had  even  announced  that  this 
move  had  the  sanction  of  Mejean,  who  had  told 
Micheroux  that  if  war  was  resumed  he  would  not  be 
answerable  for  consequences.  Massa,  who  asked  for 
a  conference,  however,  repulsed  all  Ruffo's  overtures 
as  coercion.  The  whole  of  Naples  lay  between  two 
suspended  fires;  and  yet  Ruffo,  afraid  of  St.  Elmo, 
now  besought  Nelson  to  land  the  troops,  the  offer  of 
which  he  had  put  off  that  very  morning.  By  the  next 
evening  the  two  castles  had  unconditionally  sur- 
rendered. The  royal  colours  streamed  from  their  tur- 
rets. The  loyalist  nobles  of  the  "  Eletti  "  had  started 
to  implore  the  King's  presence,  and  Ruffo,  leagued  with 
the  feudal  barons,  must  have  trembled.  Feux  de  joie 
blazed  in  all  the  streets,  and  from  every  window,  side 
by  side,  waved  the  British  and  Neapolitan  flags. 

In  the  meantime  neither  had  Emma's  energy  been 
dormant;  she  did  more  than  copy,  and  interpret,  and 
translate  the  patois.  She  was  a  woman  of  action. 
Her  enthusiasm  spread  among  the  common  people,  who 
adored  her.  She  conjured  with  the  Queen's  name : — 
"•  I  had  privily  seen  all  the  Loyal  party,  and  having  the 
head  of  the  Lazzaronys  an  old  friend,  he  came  in  the 
night  of  our  arrival,  and  told  me  he  had  90  thousand 
Lazeronis  [-sic]  ready,  at  the  holding  up  of  his  finger, 
but  only  twenty  with  arms.  Lord  Nelson,  to  whom  I 
enterpreted,  got  a  large  supply  of  arms  for  the  rest, 
and  they  were  deposited  with  this  man.  In  the  mean 
time  the  Calabreas  [sic]  were  comiting  murders-;  the 
bombs  we  sent  .  .  .  were  returned,  and  the  city  in  con- 
fusion. I  sent  for  this  Pali,  the  head  of  the  Lazeroni, 
and  told  him,  in  great  confidence,  that  the  King  wou'd 
be  soon  at  Naples,  and  that  all  that  we  required  of  him 
was  to  keep  the  city  quiet  for  ten  days  from  that  mo- 
ment. We  gave  him  only  one  hundred  of  our  marine 


Lady  Hamilton  at  the  spinning  wheel. 
From   the  original  painting   by  George  Romney. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  291 

troops.  He  with  these  brave  men  kept  all  the  town 
in  order  .  .  .  and  he  is  to  have  promotion.  I  have 
thro'  him  made  '  the  Queen's  party/  and  the  people 
have  prayed  for  her  to  come  back,  and  she  is  now 
very  popular.  I  send  her  every  night  a  messenger  to 
Palermo,  with  all  the  news  and  letters,  and  she  gives 
me  the  orders  the  same  [way].  I  have  given  audi- 
ences to  those  of  her  party,  and  settled  matters  between 
the  nobility  and  Her  Majesty.  She  is  not  to  see  on 
her  arrival  any  of  her  former  evil  counsellors,  nor  the 
women  of  fashion,  alltho'  Ladys  of  the  Bedchamber, 
formerly  her  friends  and  companions,  who  did  her  dis- 
honour by  their  desolute  life.  All.,  all  is  changed.  She 
has  been  very  unfortunate;  but  she  is  a  good  woman, 
and  has  sense  enough  to  profit  by  her  past  unhappiness, 
and  will  make  for  the  future  amende  honorable  for  the 
past.  In  short,  if  I  can  judge,  it  may  turn  out  for- 
tunate that  the  Neapolitans  have  had  a  dose  of  Repub- 
licanism. .  .  .  PS. — It  wou'd  be  a  charity  to  send  me 
some  things;  for  in  saving  all  for  my  dear  and  royal 
friend,  I  lost  my  little  all.  Never  mind." 

Bravo !  Emma,  rash  organiser  and  populariser  of 
the  Queen's  party,  bold  equipper  and  encourager  of 
Pali  the  Lazzaroni,  who,  when  the  King  at  last  came 
to  his  own  again,  brought  all  his  ninety  thousand  men 
to  welcome  him  at  sea.  We  shall  hearken  to  Emma 
again  ere  long.  For  the  present,  the  recital  of  sterner 
events  must  be  resumed. 

The  plot,  then,  to  place  Naples  at  the  mercy  of  the 
French  had  been  foiled.  The  question  that  was  to  con- 
vulse the  city  on  the  following  day  was,  On  what  terms 
had  the  castles  surrendered!' 

In  trying  to  disentangle  the  difficulties  of  the  next 
few  days,  a  distinction  should  be  borne  in  mind  be- 
tween the  armistice  made  by  the  Cardinal  with  the 
rebels  (and  afterwards  with  the  French),  and  the 

Memoirs — Vol.  14 — 10 


292  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

capitulation  itself,  which  it  was  designed  to  further. 
It  would  almost  seem  as  if  some  of  the  rebels  had  al- 
ready contrived  to  escape  from  the  convent  of  St. 
Martino,  though  not  under  the  capitulatory  clauses. 
Nelson  would  be  most  unlikely  to  reconsider  any  of 
these  clauses,  which  he  had  peremptorily  cancelled. 
But  it  might  be  thought  possible  that  he  would  respect 
the  armistice,  which  he  had  equally  annulled.  He 
might  forbear  to  attack  the  rebel  castles  and  even  St. 
Elmo,  with  a  view  to  their  surrender.  In  exacting  the 
unconditional  surrender  of  the  rebels,  of  which  he  had 
already  given  notice,  and  which  he  was  again  to  notify, 
he  never  wavered.  But  it  will  be  found  that  for  the 
sake  of  the  town's  quietude,  and  pending  some  author- 
itative announcement  of  the  King's  pleasure  (possibly 
recalling  Ruffo),  he  did  now  temporarily  desist  from 
a  siege,  and  so  far  obliged  Ruffo.  Mr.  Gutteridge  has 
shown  by  comparing  and  contrasting  the  documents, 
that  when  Nelson  suddenly  informed  the  Cardinal  on 
June  26  that  he  would  respect  the  armistice,  he  had  no 
thought  of  respecting  the  capitulation,  and  that  in  the 
sequel  he  did  not  go  back  on  his  promise.  It  seems 
likely  that  the  two  cases  of  armistice  and  capitulation 
were  so  involved  together  by  Micheroux  and  Ruffo  as 
to  persuade  the  patriots  that  they  were  free  to  escape 
under  the  terms  of  their  convention,  without  submit- 
ting themselves  to  the  sovereign  whom  they  had  defied, 
or  abjuring  the  national  foe. 

From  the  confusipns  of  many  documents  the  situa- 
tion can  be  clearly  discerned.  Mejean's  main 
thought  was  for  his  own  garrison.  Capua  still  held 
out,  and  till  it  fell  he  disdained  to  surrender.  His 
threats  to  bombard  the  town  embarrassed  Nelson  alike 
and  Ruffo;  and,  indeed,  they  were  more  than  threats 
for  an  intermittent  fire  from  St.  Elmo  nightly  terrified 
Naples.  Though  Mejean  had  dictated  the  patriots' 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  293 

capitulation,  he  had  restricted  himself  to  a  precarious 
armistice.  Micheroux  praised  his  nobility  and  mod- 
eration, but  he  was  not  above  the  possibility  of  a  bribe, 
and  he  was  perhaps  indifferent  to  the  fate  of  the  rebels 
so  long  as  he  could  stave  off  his  own  surrender.  They 
on  their  side  were  willing  to  sacrifice  the  lives  of  the 
hostages  for  the  security  of  their  compact.  One  is 
driven  to  suspect  that  it  was  through  Micheroux  and 
Ruffo  that  they  came  to  believe  that  Nelson  had  sud- 
denly and  entirely  changed  his  mind.  On  June  25, 
Ruffo  even  in  offering  them  the  choice  of  departure 
had  warned  them  that  Nelson  refused  to  recognise 
their  compact,  and  was  master  of  the  sea.  That  the 
next  day  they  were  misled  by  somebody  into  thinking 
that  the  treaty  would  be  respected  appears  from  a  let- 
ter in  July  of  ex-Commandant  Aurora  to  Nelson, 
where  he  states  his  belief  "  in  common  with  the  garri- 
son "  of  being  "  taken  to  Toulon."  But  their  mis- 
leader  was  not  Nelson.  If  they  could  be  persuaded 
that  in  yielding  they  were  free  to  go,  the  odium  of 
consequences  would  be  cast  on  the  British  Admiral. 

Early  on  June  26  Hamilton  informed  Ruffo  that 
Nelson  had  "  resolved  to  do  nothing  that  might  break 
the  armistice  " ;  and  this  Nelson  confirmed  with  his  own 
hand. 

Awaiting  the  King's  mandate,  he  now  humoured  the 
Cardinal  and  forebore  to  attack  the  rebels,  even  while 
concerting  measures  against  the  French.  His  letter  to 
Ruffo  of  June  26  breathes  not  a  word  about  the  cap- 
itulation, and  a  day  earlier,  Ruffo  had  handed  Nelson's 
ultimatum  to  the  castles.  Nelson,  it  was  afterwards 
alleged,  signified  in  writing  to  Micheroux  that  he  would 
carry  out  the  treaty.  But  Micheroux  owns  that  these 
declarations  were  unused,  averring  that  his  agent  took 
over  Castel  Uovo,  and  the  rebels  marched  out  with 
honours  of  war.  Troubridge,  an  eye-witness,  is  silent 


294  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

on  these  points,  all  of  which  Mr.  Gutteridge  traverses. 
Ruffo's  own  construction,  however,  of  Nelson's  prom- 
ise was  evidenced  by  a  service  of  thanksgiving.  That 
evening,  Troubridge  and  Ball  with  500  marines  oc- 
cupied the  castles.  Next  day  they  made  short  work 
of  the  Jacobin  insignia.  They  hewed  down  the  Tree 
of  Liberty  and  the  red-capped  giant.  Rejoicing  per- 
vaded the  town.  The  castle  flags  were  expected  on 
board  the  Fondroyant. 

Ruffo,  safe  as  he  now  felt  from  the  King's  certain 
anger,  expressed  his  gratitude  to  Emma  and  her  hus- 
band. Hamilton  answered  civilly,  and  his  wife,  who 
had  been  slaving  at  correspondence,  must  have  re- 
joiced. Nelson  was  bound  by  no  conditions  whatever. 
If,  as  seems  doubtful,  he  authorised  the  notice  (at- 
tributed by  Sacchinelli  to  Troubridge)  that  he  would 
not  oppose  the  embarkation,  he  went  no  further.  A 
small  quota  of  polaccas  awaited  the  refugees.  For  the 
present,  Nelson  pledged  his  word  that  he  would  not 
molest  them.  But  he  promised  no  more.  The  day  be- 
fore, Acton  was  informing  Hamilton  that  the  King 
might  very  soon  come  in  person,  and  that  the  Cardinal 
was  probably  at  the  end  of  his  tether;  while  on  the 
next  he  wrote  rejoicing  that  the  "  infamous  capitula- 
tion "  had  been  rescinded.  If  Ruffo  persisted,  he 
must  be  arrested  and  deposed,  and  a  direct  communica- 
tion from  the  King  must  by  this  time  have  reached 
Nelson.  It  reached  him  on  June  28.  Nelson  at  once 
ordered  the  Seahorse  off  to  Palermo  for  the  King's 
service,  and  he  now  distinctly  warned  the  rebels  that 
they  "  must  submit  to  the  King's  clemency  "  under 
"  pain  of  death." 

It  was  this  letter  that  decided  the  doom  of  the  mis- 
erable patriots  who,  under  these  circumstances,  had 
been  caught  in  a  death-trap.  Had  the  King's  direc- 
tions been  deferred  Nelson  would  have  stayed  his  hand. 


As  it  was,  the  rebels  instead  of  seeing  the  capitulations 
executed,  were  executed  themselves.  His  warnings  of 
June  25  and  28  had  been  disregarded  by  those  who 
were  somehow  misled  by  his  action  next  morning,  which 
was  designed  to  keep  Ruffo  quiet.  Years  afterwards, 
Nelson  affirmed  in  a  document  dictated  to  Lady  Ham- 
ilton :  "  I  put  aside  the  dishonourable  treaty,  and  sent 
the  rebels  notice  of  it.  Therefore,  when  the  rebels 
surrendered,  they  came  out  of  the  castles  as  they 
ought,  without  any  honours  of  war,  and  trusting  to 
the  judgment  of  their  sovereign."  And  the  British 
Government  in  October,  1799,  fully  endorsed  Nelson's 
policy. 

The  King's  good  nature  had  hitherto  been  proverb- 
ial; it  was  the  Queen  and  Acton  who  had  hitherto 
shared  the  odium  of  repression.  But  Ferdinand  was 
now  at  length  his  own  master,  and  his  latent  cruelty 
emerged  the  more  savage  because  it  had  been  long  in 
abeyance,  and  he  had  now  heavy  scores  to  settle  with 
fawning  courtiers  and  spurious  loyalists.  No  quarter 
was  to  be  given  to  these  false  prophets;  not  a  man  of 
them  was  to  escape.  In  the  ensuing  hecatomb'  of 
slaughter  the  Queen  acted  from  policy  rather  than  re- 
venge, while  Emma  was  so  compassionate  that  she 
thought  it  necessary  to  reason  with  her. 

In  Hamilton's  missive  to  Acton  of  the  following 
day — June  27 — occurred  a  significant  sentence  : — 

"  Captain  Troubridge  is  gone  to  execute  the  busi- 
ness, and  the  rebels  on  board  of  the  polaccas  cannot 
stir  without  a  passport  from  Lord  Nelson." 

The  heartrending  scenes  that  shortly  ensued  may  be 
inferred  from  the  numerous  documents  transcribed  in 
Mr.  Gutteridge's  masterly  volume.  The  few  appeals 
to  Emma's  intercession  given  in  the  Morrison  papers 
and  by  Pettigrew  must  stand  for  many  more.  It  is 
not  a  creditable  contrast,  that  of  the  misery  of  Naples 


296  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

with  the  triumphal  salvos  and  Te  Deum  at  Palermo. 
Vce  Victorious! 

That  very  night  thirteen  chained  rebels  were  brought 
on  board.  The  next  clay,  the  passengers  awaiting  de- 
liverance in  fourteen  polaccas  found  themselves  bonds- 
men in  Nelson's  ships.  Nelson  certainly  did  not  un- 
derdo his  part  of  avenging  angel — the  part  of  what 
the  Queen  styled  his  "  heroic  firmness."  He  was  St. 
Michael  against  the  seven  devils  of  Jacobinism,  and  the 
whole  iron  vials  6f  retribution  were  poured  forth. 
He  represented  a  King  who  had  wronged  before  in 
his  turn  he  had  been  wronged,  and  who  had  hoarded 
his  injuries. 

'While  the  crowd  on  the  quays  vociferated  with  joy, 
it  was  not  long  before  the  dungeons  of  the  fleet  re- 
echoed to  the  groans  and  curses  of  ensnared  and  inter- 
cepted patriots.  Emma  must  have  shuddered  as  she 
kept  to  her  cabin  and  tried  to  write  to  her  Queen. 

The  thirteenth  of  the  thirteen  confined  in  the 
Foudroyant  on  that  2/th  of  June,  was  Caracciolo.  He 
had  not  been  included  in  any  amnesty.  On  the  cession 
of  the  castles  he  had  fled  to  the  mountains,  but  had 
been  dragged  from  his  lair  by  a  dastardly  spy.  Pale, 
ashamed,  and  trembling,  unwashen  and  unkempt,  he 
stood  silent  before  the  stern  Nelson  and  Troubridge. 
Who  could  recognise  in  this  quailing  figure  the  proud 
son  of  a  feudal  prince,  the  commodore  who  had  learned 
seamanship  in  England,  the  trusted  adherent  who  had 
gone  to  Naples  such  a  short  time  since  apparently  loyal, 
only  to  become  Admiral  of  the  rebel  navy? 

He  had  fired  on  his  King's  colours. 

That  was  the  sole  thought  in  the  breasts  of  the 
grim  sailors  who  confronted  him. 

Such  a  catastrophe  inspires  horror,  but  of  all  the 
victims  that  were  soon  to  glut  the  scaffold,  Caracciolo 
had  least  the  excuse  of  oppression.  Many  had  been 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  297 

forced  by  the  French  into  tempting  posts  on  the  provi- 
sional administration.  Such,  for  example,  was  the 
errant  but  charming  Domenico  Cirillo,  for  whom 
Emma  was  to  plead  so  warmly.  Others,  again,  had 
been  heroic.  'Such  was  Eleonora  de  Pimentel. 

But  Caracciolo,  though  he  set  up  the  plea  of  duress, 
had  purposely  left  Sicily.  He  was  powerful,  he  was 
trusted,  and  he  had  proved  disloyal.  He  has  figured 
as  an  old  man  bowed  with  years  and  care.  He  was 
still  in  the  prime  of  life.  He  has  been  pictured  as  a 
veteran  Casabianca.  To  Nelson  he  was  a  rat  who 
left  what  he  supposed  was  a  sinking  ship.  It  might  be 
pleaded  as  a  further  extenuation  that  his  estates  had 
been  ravaged,  and  that  his  hapless  family  was  large. 
But  every  one's  property  had  been  plundered  by  the 
French,  and  not  every  one  had  turned  rebel.  And  yet 
despair  should  always  command  pity,  and  the  despair 
of  treachery,  perhaps,  most  of  all,  for  it  is  the  tor- 
ment of  a  lost  soul.  Had  Caracciolo  lived  under  Nero, 
he  might  have  died  by  himself  opening  a  vein,  like 
Vestinus.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  great  evil  of 
unconstitutional  monarchy  lies  in  its  proneness  to  visit 
crime  with  crime;  as  Tacitus  has  put  it :  "  Scelera  scele- 
ribus  tuenda." 

The  imagination  of  cherishing  Italy  and  of  free 
England  has  long  enshrined  him  as  the  type  of  Lib- 
erty sacrificed  in  cold  blood  to  Despotism,  as  innocent 
and  murdered. 

In  England  this  idea  mainly  originated  in  the  gen- 
erous eloquence  of  Charles  James  Fox,  who  loved  free- 
dom, it  is  true,  but  loved  politics  also;  that  Fox,  be  it 
remembered,  who,  when  in  power,  once  politely  told 
his  Catholic  supporters,  in  opposition,  to  go  to  the 
devil.  More  than  sixty  years  later,  the  attitude  of  a 
section  towards  the  case  of  Governor  Eyre  and  the 
negroes  presents  a  close  analogy  to  the  attitude  of  the 


298  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

same  section  towards  the  case  of  Nelson  and  Carac- 
ciolo. 

Caracciolo  had  fired  on  his  King's  colours.  From  the 
yard-arm  of  that  frigate  he  must  hang.  So  thought 
his  captors;  so,  perchance,  thought  Caracciolo  as  his 
ashy  lips  refused  the  relief  of  words.  Nelson  had 
himself  requested  Ruffo  to  deliver  Caracciolo  into  his 
hands  instead  of  sending  him  to  be  tried  at  Procida. 
He  was  not  rhadamanthine,  but  he  was  an  English  Ad- 
miral; and  the  English  had  killed  even  Admiral  Byng, 
whose  crime — if  crime  it  was — was  a  trifle  compared 
with  Caracciolo's.  "  To  encourage  the  others,"  said 
Voltaire ;  "  as  an  example,"  said  Nelson. 

The  next  day  Caracciolo  was  "  tried."  Emma  never 
beheld  him.  The  process  was  short  and  sharp.  He 
was  condemned.  Caracciolo  was  guilty  before  trial, 
but  this  summary  trial  was  a  farce.  It  would  have 
been  far  juster — though  the  issue  was  undoubted — if 
Caracciolo  had  passed  the  ordeal  of  impartial  judges. 
His  Neapolitan  inquisitors  refused  him  the  death  of  a 
gentleman,  or  even  a  day's  reprieve  for  his  poor  soul's 
comfort.  In  vain  the  Hamiltons  supplicated  Nelson 
for  these  fitting  mercies.  Naturally  humane,  he  was 
here  relentless.  He  was  neither  lawyer  nor  priest. 
He  had  not  been  his  judge.  Caracciolo's  own  peers 
had  pronounced  him  guilty  of  death,  and  Nelson  sen- 
tenced him. 

Caracciolo  had  fired  at  the  Minerva,  now  com- 
manded by  our  old  friend  Count  Thurn,  the  sentinel 
of  last  December. 

On  June  the  28th,  at  about  five  of  the  afternoon, 
the  scarecrow  of  sedition  swung,  lashed  to  the 
Minerva's  gallows.  Though  imprisonment,  as  was 
first  suggested,  would  have  been  far  humaner  and 
wiser,  Nelson  might  have  echoed  Homer's  line : 
"  So  perish  all  who  do  the  like  again." 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  299 

The  bay  was  alive  with  hundreds  of  boats  crowded 
with  thousands  of  loyalists.  For  two  full  hours  he 
dangled  in  sight  of  a  gloating  mob,  before  the  rope 
was  cut,  and  its  grisly  burden  dropped  into  the  sea. 
As  the  big  southern  sun  dipped  suddenly  below  the 
waves  which  had  once  witnessed  the  revel  by  which 
Nero  had  enticed  his  own  mother  to  destruction,  one 
by  one  the  little  lights  of  boats  and  quays  began  to 
glimmer,  the  scent  of  flowers  was  wafted,  the  bells  of 
church  towers  tolled  over  the  ghostly  waters.  The 
shore  was  thronged  with  eager  spectators,  gesticulat- 
ing, applauding,  pointing  at  the  mast  where  Carac- 
ciolo  had  expiated  his  treason. 

Mejean  had  himself  broken  the  truce  by  assailing 
the  city  with  his  fusillade.  Nelson  now  attacked  St. 
Elmo,  while  Troubridge,  with  his  troops,  invested  it 
by  land.  Its  fall  was  timed  to  greet  the  King's  ar- 
rival. 

The  Seahorse  brought  him,  together  with  Acton 
and  Castelcicala,  on  the  night  of  the  9th  to  the  chan- 
nel of  Procida,  where  they  awaited  Nelson.  Next 
morning  they  stepped  together  on  to  the  deck  of  the 
Foudroyant.  As  the  Admiral  and  his  guests  sailed 
into  the  gulf  before  the  last  shot  had  reduced  the 
stronghold  on  the  hill,  the  sea  bristled  with  the  barques, 
the  two  banks  of  the  Chiaja  with  the  dense  array  of 
his  welcomers.  At  ten  o'clock  he  anchored.  The 
boom  of  cannon,  the  noise  of  batteries,  the  "  shouts  of 
Generals  "  acclaimed  the  restoration  of  the  King  amid 
the  salutes  of  victory.  The  King  had  at  last  come  to 
his  own  again.  But,  as  Emma  wrote,  "  II  est  bon[ne] 
d'etre  chez  le  roi,  mais  mieux  d'etre  chez  soi[t]."  She 
had  toiled  like  a  Trojan.  "  Our  dear  Lady,"  wrote 
Nelson  a  week  later  to  her  mother,  "  La  Signora 
Madre,"  "  has  her  time  so  much  taken  up  with  ex- 


300  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

cuses  from  rebels,  Jacobins,  and  fools,  that  she  is  every 
day  most  heartily  tired.  ...  I  hope  we  shall  very 
soon  return  to  see  you.  Till  then,  recollect  that  we  are 
restoring  happiness  to  the  Kingdom  of  Naples  and 
doing  good  to  millions."  "  The  King,"  wrote  Emma 
gravely,  pouring  out,  two  days  afterwards,  her  tri- 
umphs to  Greville,  who  must  have  opened  wide  his  eyes 
as  he  read,  "  has  bought  his  experience  most  dearly, 
but  at  last  he  knows  his  friends  from  his  enemies,  and 
also  knows  the  defects  of  his  former  government,  and 
is  determined  to  remedy  them ;  .  .  .  his  misfortunes 
have  made  him  steady,  and  [to]  look  into  himself. 
The  Queen  is  not  yet-  come.  She  sent  me  as  her  Dep- 
uty ;  for  I  am  very  popular,  speak  the  Neapolitan  lan- 
guage, and  [am]  considered,  with  Sir  William,  the 
friend  of  the  people.  The  Queen  is  waiting  at 
Palermo,  and  she  has  determined,  as  there  has  been  a 
great  outcry  against  her,  not  to  risk  coming  with  the 
King;  for  if  he  had  not  succeeded  [on]  his  arrival,  and 
not  been  well  received,  she  wou'd  not  bear  the  blame 
or  be  in  the  way."  "  But " — and  here  we  catch  the 
true  beat  of  Emma's  heart — "  But  what  a  glory  to 
our  good  King,  to  our  Country,  that  we — our  brave 
fleet,  our  great  Nelson — have  had  the  happiness  of  re- 
storing the  King  to  his  throne,  to  the  Neapolitans  their 
much-loved  King,  and  been  the  instrument  of  giving 
a  future  good  and  just  government  to  the  Neapol- 
itans! .  .  .  The  guilty  are  punished  and  the  faithful 
rewarded.  I  have  not  been  on  shore  but  once.  The 
King  gave  us  leave  to  go  as  far  as  St.  Elmo's,  to  see 
the  effect  of  the  bombs!  I  saw  at  a  distance  our 
despoiled  house  in  town,  and  Villa  Emma,  that  have 
been  plundered.  Sir  William's  new  apartment — a 
bomb  burst  in  it !  It  made  me  so  low-spirited,  I  don't 
desire  to  go  again. 

"  We  shall,  as  soon  as  the  Government  is  fixed, 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  301 

return  to  Palermo,  and  bring  back  the  royal  family; 
for  I  foresee  not  any  permanent  government  till  that 
event  takes  place.  Nor  wou'd  it  be  politick,  after  all 
the  hospitality  the  King  and  Queen  received  at 
Palermo,  to  carry  them  off  in  a  hurry.  So  you  see 
there  is  great  management  required.  I  am  quite  worn 
out.  For  I  am  interpreter  to  Lord  Nelson,  the  King 
and  Queen;  and  altogether  feil  quite  shattered;  but  as 
things  go  well,  that  keeps  me  up.  We  dine  now  every 
day  with  the  King  at  12  o'clock.  Dinner  is  over  by 
one.  His  Majesty  goes  to  sleep,  and  we  sit  down  to 
write  in  this  heat;  and  on  board  you  may  guess  what 
we  suffer.  My  mother  is  at  Palermo,  but  I  have  an 
English  lady  1  with  me,  who  is  of  use  to  me,  in  writ- 
ing, and  helping  to  keep  papers  and  things  in  order. 
We  have  given  the  King  all  the  upper  cabin,  all  but 
one  room  that  we  write  in  and  receive  the  ladies  who 
come  to  the  King.  Sir  William  and  I  have  an  apart- 
ment below  in  the  ward-room,  and  as  to  Lord  Nelson, 
he  is  here  and  there  and  everywhere.  I  never  saw  such 
zeal  and  activity  in  any  one  as  in  this  wonderful  man. 
My  dearest  Sir  William,  thank  God,  is  well  and  of  the 
greatest  use  now  to  the  King.  We  hope  Capua  will 
fall  in  a  few  days,  and  then  we  will  be  able  to  return 
to  Palermo.  On  Sunday  last  we  had  prayers  on 
board.  The  King  assisted,  and  was  much  pleased 
with  the  order,  decency,  and  good  behaviour  of  the 
men,  the  officers,  etc." 

The  self -consciousness,  the  strenuousness,  the  devo- 
tion, the  enthusiasm,  the  egotism,  and  yet  the  sympathy 
— all  the  old  elements  are  here.  She  had  thirsted  for 
the  blood  and  thunder  of  her  girlhood's  romances;  she 
now  beheld  blood  and  thunder  in  reality.  The  "  much- 
loved  "  King  had  a  summary  way  of  finishing  off  his 
enemies,  and  bribery  as  well  as  butchery  reigned  in 
'Miss  Cornelia  Knight. 


302  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Naples.  The  Morrison  Collection  gives  but  three  of 
the  appeals  to  Lady  Hamilton's  kind  heart.  Of  one 
the  ring  is  tragic.  A  snatch  of  humour  is  welcome. 
A  certain  Englishman,  Matthew  Wade,  was  a  loyalist 
in  Naples.  He  it  was  who  had  begged  Ruffo  to  grant 
him  troops  for  the  occupation  of  the  castles. 
Troubles,  in  these  troublous  times,  had  fallen  on  his 
household,  and  I  cannot  refrain  from  subjoining  a 
passage  in  a  letter  of  his  about  them  to  Emma. 

"  I  beg  leave  to  remind  your  Ladyship  that  the 
Governour's  finances  is  become  very  low,  and  I  sup- 
pose in  a  short  time  I  will  lose  my  credit,  as  my  house 
was  plundered  when  I  was  in  prison,  under  a  pretext  of 
finding  papers  and  being  a  Royalist;  and  after,  by  the 
Calabrace  before  my  return  here,  for  being  a  Jacobine. 
The  last  was  a  dirty  business,  as  they  robbed  my 
mother-in-law  of  her  shift.  She  said  six,  tho'  I  never 
knew  her  and  her  daughter  to  have  but  three,  as  I  well 
remember  they  usually  disputed  who  was  to  put  on 
the  clean  shift  of  a  Sunday  morning.  However,  I  was 
obliged  to  buy  six  shifts  in  order  to  live  quiet.  Pray 
assure  her  Majesty  and  General  Acton  that  I  can't  hold 
out  much  longer.  Besides,  my  family  is  increased.  I 
have  got  a  cat  and  a  horse  which  has  been  robbed  from 
me  by  the  Jacobines.  I  met  him  with  a  prince,  and 
took  emediately  possession  of  him  as  my  real  proprity. 
...  I  am  told  a  conspiracy  has  been  discovered  and  a 
sum  of  money  found,  in  order  to  let  seventeen  of  the 
principal  Jacobines  escape,  now  confined  (and  they  are 
marked  for  execution)  in  the  Castell-Nuovo ;  they  say 
the  Governor  (from  whom  they  have  taken  the  com- 
mand) is  deeply  conserned  in  the  business.  I  am  sorry 
for  him,  tho'  I  have  no  acquaintance  with  the  man,  but 
I  am  told  he  is  a  brave  man  and  a  soldier.  But  there 
is  something  in  the  air  of  the  climate  that  softens  the 
nerve  so  much,  that  I  never  knew  a  man — nay,  nor  a 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  303 

woman  of  the  country — that  cou'd  resist  the  temptation 
of  gold."  Thus  Matthew  Wade,  humourist  and  phi- 
losopher. 

The  Vicariate  of  Naples  was  now  reposed  in  the 
Duke  of  Salandra,  who  had  always  been  loyal.  Nelson 
appointed  Troubridge  Commodore  of  the  Naples 
squadron,  and  presented  him  with  the  broad,  red  pen- 
nant. Nelson  himself  was  soon  to  be  elevated  for  a 
time  to  the  chief  Mediterranean  command.  The  ist 
of  August  was  celebrated  with  as  much  rejoicing  as 
the  situation  allowed.  Nelson  relates  to  his  wife,  not 
in  "  vanity  "  but  in  "  gratitude,"  the  King's  toast,  the 
royal  salute  from  the  Sicilian  ships  of  war,  the  vessel 
turned  into  a  Roman  galley  in  the  midst  of  which, 
among  the  "  fixed  lamps,"  stood  a  repetition  of  last 
year's  "  rostral  column,"  the  illuminations,  the  mag- 
nificent orchestra,  the  proud  cantata — Nelson  came,  the 
invincible  Nelson,  and  they  were  preserved  and  again 
made  happy.  Indeed,  Leghorn  and  Capua  had  both 
surrendered,  as  well  as  Naples.  By  the  Qth  of  August 
the  Foudroyant  with  its  jubilant  inmates  had  returned 
to  Palermo. 

Emma  had  again  triumphed.  But  at  what  a  cost  to 
her  peace  of  mind!  A  royal  reign  of  terror  had  un- 
nerved her.  She  was  never  to  see  "  dear,  dear 
Naples  "  again.  Her  husband  leaned  upon  her  daily 
more  and  more ;  and  yet  the  active  association  of  nearly 
two  months,  which  seemed  like  two  years,  had  brought 
her  and  Nelson  closer  than  ever  together  as  affinities. 
All  along  it  was  the  force  and  vigour  of  her  character 
far  more  than  her  charms  and  accomplishments  that 
appealed  to  him,  and  her  unflagging  strength  of  spirit 
had  never  displayed  itself  to  greater  advantage  than 
during  these  trials  of  the  last  few  months.  She  tended 
faster  and  faster  towards  some  irrevocable  step,  the 


304  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

very  shadow  of  which  perturbed  while  it  allured  her. 
A  note  of  discord  jars  on  the  whole  tune  of  her 
triumph. 

On  one  of  the  short  sea  expeditions,  so  rumour  goes, 
that  time  had  allowed  them  to  join  in  making,  a  phan- 
tom had  startled  them.  Out  of  the  depths  the  livid 
body  of  Caracciolo,  long  immersed  but  still  buoyant, 
had  risen  from  nothingness  and  fixed  them  with  its 
sightless  gaze. 


CHAPTER  X 

HOMEWARD  BOUND 

To  December,  1800 

THERE  is  an  almost  imperceptible  turning-point 
in  career,  as  in  age,  when  the  slope  of  the  hill 
verges  downwards.     Emma  had  now  reached 
her  summit.     Henceforward,   in  gradual  curves,  her 
path  descends. 

The  royal  fete  chain  petrc  at  Palermo  in  Nelson's 
honour  eclipsed  each  previous  pageant.  No  splendour 
seemed  adequate  to  the  national  gratitude.  The  Tem- 
ple of  Fame  in  the  palace  gardens,  its  exquisitely  mod- 
elled group  of  Nelson  led  by  Sir  William  to  receive  his 
wreath  from  the  hands  of  Emma  as  Victory ;  the  royal 
reception  and  embrace  of  the  trio  at  its  portals,  and  the 
laurel-wreaths  with  which  Ferdinand  crowned  them; 
the  Egyptian  pyramids  with  their  heroic  inscriptions; 
the  Turkish  Admiral  and  his  suite  in  their  gorgeous 
trappings,  grave  and  contemptuous  of  the  homage  paid 
to  the  fair  sex;  the  young  Prince  Leopold  in  his  mid- 
shipman's uniform,  who,  mounting  the  steps  at  the 
pedestal  of  Nelson's  statue,  crowned  it  with  a  diamond 
laurel-wreath  to  the  strains  of  "  See  the  Conquering 
Hero  " ;  the  whole  court  blazing  with  jewels  emblematic 
of  the  allied  conquests;  the  mimic  battle  of  the  Nile 
in  fireworks ;  the  new  cantata  of  the  "  Happy  Con- 
cord," and  the  whole  Opera  band,  with  the  younger 
Senesino  at  their  head,  bursting  at  the  close  into  "  Rule 

305 


J306  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Britannia  "  and  "  God  save  the  King  " ;  the  weather- 
beaten  Nelson  himself  moved  to  tears — all  these 
formed  picturesque  features  of  a  memorable  night. 
Lieutenant  Parsons,  an  eye-witness,  thus  alludes  to  it 
and  the  tutelary  goddess  both  of  the  royal  house  and 
its  two  defenders,  by  sword  and  pen : — 

"  A  fairy  scene  .  .  .  presided  over  by  the  Genius  of 
Taste,  whose  attitudes  were  never  equalled,  and  with 
a  suavity  of  manner  and  a  generous  openness  of  mind 
and  heart,  where  selfishness,  with  its  unamiable  con- 
comitants, pride,  envy,  and  jealousy,  would  never  dwell 
— -I  mean  Emma,  Lady  Hamilton.  .  .  .  The  scene  [of 
the  young  Prince  crowning  Nelson]  was  deeply  affect- 
ing, and  many  a  countenance  that  had  looked  with  un- 
concern on  the  battle  .  .  .  now  turned  aside,  ashamed 
of  their  .  .  .  weakness."  Viva  Nelson!  Viva  Miledi! 
Viva  Hamilton!  rent  the  air. 

Emma  divided  the  honours  with  Nelson.  A  tor- 
rent of  stanzas  gushed  from  the  Sicilian  improvisatori ; 
even  surgeons  burst  into  song. 

But  there  were  more  substantial  favours.  Nelson 
received  not  only  a  magnificent  sword  of  honour  and 
caskets  of  remembrance,  together  with,  a  few  months 
later,  the  newly  founded  order  of  merit,  but,  partly  by 
means  of  Emma's  advocacy,  the  title  and  estates  of  the 
Duchy  of  Bronte.  These,  however,  through  the  mis- 
management first  of  Grafer  and  afterwards  of  Gibbs, 
yielded  a  poor  and  most  precarious  revenue  for  him, 
and,  as  will  be  seen  hereafter,  a  fluctuating  one  for 
Emma,  whose  annuity  was  to  be  charged  upon  it.  The 
title  "  Bronte,"  with  its  Greek  derivation  of  thunder, 
so  curiously  according  with  the  name  of  his  vessel, 
caused  Nelson  afterwards  to  be  continually  styled  by 
Emma  and  his  sisters  "  Jove  "  the  thunderer.  Pres- 
ents poured  in  upon  him :  the  Crescent  from  the  Grand 
Signior,  the  sword  and  cane  from  Zante,  commemorat- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  307 

ing  the  deliverance  of  Greece,  the  grants  from  English 
companies.  Nor  was  Emma  without  royal  recogni- 
tion. A  queenly  trousseau  awaited  her  on  her  arrival, 
and  she  received  regal  jewels,  valued,  it  was  said,  at 
six  thousand  pounds,  but  which  she  sold  two  years 
afterwards,  to  Nelson's  admiration,  for  her  husband's 
benefit.  "  Nestor,"  indeed,  was  becoming  more  and 
more  involved  in  debt,  and  about  this  period  he  bor- 
rowed over  two  thousand  pounds  from  Nelson.  He 
was  not  only  worried,  but  worn.  He  took  offence  at 
trifles,  and  had  quarrelled  even  with  Acton. 

Nelson  did  not  dally,  though  Downing  Street  pained 
him  by  its  insinuations.  From  all  these  festivities  his 
alertness  at  once  returned  to  vigilance  and  service. 
Not  a  fortnight  passed  before — occupied  as  he  was  with 
every  sort  of  multifarious  correspondence — he  sent 
Duckworth  to  protect  the  British  trade,  on  the  main- 
tenance of  which  he  laid  infinite  stress,  at  Lisbon  and 
Oporto,  to  watch  Cadiz,  and  to  keep  the  Straits  open. 
He  minutely  directed  Ball's  operations  at  Malta,  still 
hampered  by  every  vexatious  delay  on  the  Italian  side, 
and  by  the  follies  of  Nizza,  the  Portuguese  Admiral. 
Early  in  September  he  charged  Troubridge  and  Louis 
with  their  mission  to  Civita  Vecchia,  which  within  a 
month  freed  Rome  from  the  French.,  Directly  he  re- 
ceived this  most  cheering  intelligence,  he  himself  started 
in  the  Foudroyant  for  Port  Mahon,  with  the  one  object 
of  concentrating  every  available  force  by  land  and  sea 
on  the  complete  reduction  of  Malta,  which  remained 
ever  in  his  "  thoughts,  sleeping  or  waking."  He  did 
not  land  at  Palermo  till  October,  when  he  was  able  to 
announce  to  Sidney  Smith  (uniformly  and  magnani- 
mously helped,  praised,  and  counselled  by  him  through- 
out) that  Buonaparte  had  passed  Corsica  in  a  bombard 
steering  for  France.  No  crusader  ever  returned  with 
more  humility — contrast  his  going  in  L' Orient.  All 


308  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

the  same  this  was  ill  news,  and  Nelson  was  furious  also 
at  not  receiving  troops  from  Minorca,  and  at  the  frauds 
of  the  victualling  department.  He  kept  a  sharp  look- 
out on  the  Barbary  States  and  pirates.  He  deplored 
the  inactivity  of  the  Russian  squadron  at  La  Valetta, 
and  he  resented  the  Austrian  demand  for  their  pres- 
ence elsewhere ;  his  representations  caused  a  "  cool  re- 
ception "  to  the  Archduke's  suite  when  they  visited 
Palermo.  By  Christmas  he  cursed  the  stupidity  which 
had  allowed  Napoleon,  hasting  back  for  his  strokes  at 
Paris,  to  elude  the  allies.  But  above  all,  both  he  and 
Emma  strained  every  nerve  to  extort  grain  for  starv- 
ing Malta  from  the  King  and  Queen  of  Naples  chican- 
ing with  Acton  to  retain  every  bushel  for  their  own 
necessities.  Until,  after  "  infamous  "  delays  and  falsi- 
fied promises,  the  dole  was  granted  which  saved  thirty 
thousand  of  the  Maltese  loyalists  from  death,  he 
"  cursed  the  day  "  he  "  ever  served  the  King  of  Na- 
ples." "  Such,"  he  wrote  to  Troubridge,  "  is  the  fever 
of  my  brain  this  minute,  that  I  assure  you,  on  my  hon- 
our, if  the  Palermo  traitors  were  here,  I  would  shoot 
them  first  and  myself  afterwards."  Troubridge  was 
equally  emphatic.  The  Maltese  deputies  lodged  under 
Emma's  roof.  She  was  their  "  Ambassadress."  It 
was  not  long  before  Emma's  services  in  this  matter 
were  publicly  recognised  by  the  Czar,  as  Grand  Master 
of  the  Maltese  Knights.  When  he  bestowed  the  Grand 
Cross  on  Nelson  and  on  Ball,  he  also  bestowed  it  on 
Lady  Hamilton,  with  a  special  request  to  the  King  of 
England  for  his  licence  to  wear  it  there,  the  only  occa- 
sion, as  she  was  ever  proud  to  relate,  that  it  had  ever 
been  conferred  upon  an  Englishwoman.1  This  order 

1  Cf.  Nelson  Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  271.  The  vexed  question  of 
whether  she  spent  as  much  as  £5000  on  this  matter  scarcely  re- 
pays investigation.  The  fact  remains  that  her  services  were 
sufficient  for  imperial  recognition,  and  that  the  King  of  England 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  309 

she  wore  next  year  at  Vienna,  and  it  still  figures  in  a 
portrait  of  her  taken  there,  as  well  as  in  a  drawing  of 
her  in  1803  by  Sir  Thomas  Lawrence.  She  was  styled 
"  Dame  Chevaliere  of  the  Order  of  St.  John  of  Jeru- 
salem," and  from  this  time  forward  Ball  always  ad- 
dressed her  as  "  sister." 

But  the  Maltese  embroilments  were  by  no  means 
the  sole  annoyances  that  distracted  Nelson's  sensitive 
nature.  He  was  stung  to  the  quick  by  the  Admiralty's 
complaints  and  suspicions.  "  As  a  junior  Flag  officer, 
.  .  .  without  secretaries,  etc.,"  he  wrote  home,  "  I 
have  been  thrown  into  a  more  extensive  correspondence 
than  ever  perhaps  fell  to  the  lot  of  any  Admiral,  and 
into  a  political  situation,  I  own,  out  of  my  sphere.  .  .  . 
It  is  a  fact  that  I  have  never  but  three  times  put  my 
feet  on  the  ground  since  December,  1798,  and  except 
to  the  court,  that  till  after  8  o'clock  at  night  I  never 
relax  from  my  business."  "  Do  not,"  he  breaks  out 
to  Lord  Spencer,  "  let  the  Admiralty  write  harshly  to 
me — my  generous  soul  cannot  bear  it,  being  conscious 
that  it  is  entirely  unmerited  " ;  and,  once  more,  to  Com- 
missioner Inglefield,  "  You  must  make  allowances  for 
a  worn-out,  blind,  left-handed  man." 

Nor  was  he  least  tormented  by  the  growing  passion 

allowed  her  to  wear  the  order  on  her  return.  Her  own  account 
in  a  letter  to  Greville,  hitherto  uncited,  is  this :  "  I  have  rendered 
some  service  to  the  poor  Maltese.  I  got  them  ten  thousand 
pounds,  and  sent  corn  when  they  were  in  distress." — Nelson 
Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  277.  Her  Prince  Regent's  Memorial  alleges 
details :  "  I  received  the  deputies,  open'd  their  despatches,  and 
without  hesitation  I  went  down  to  the  port  to  try  what  could 
be  done.  I  found  lying  there  several  vessels  loaded  with  corn 
for  Ragusa.  I  immediately  purchased  the  cargoes :  .  .  .  this 
service  Sir  Alexander  Ball  in  his  letters  to  me,  as  well  as  to 
Lord  Nelson,  plainly  states  to  be  the  means  whereby  he  was 
enabled  to  preserve  that  important  island.  I  had  to  borrow  a 
considerable  sum  on  this  occasion,  which  I  since  repaid,  and 
with  my  own  private  money  this  expended  was  nothing  short 
of  £5000." — Morrison  MS.  1046. 


3io  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

of  his  heart.  His  utterances  are  despondent.  The 
East  India  Company  had  voted  ten  thousand  pounds  in 
token  of  their  gratitude.  Two  thousand  pounds  of  it 
he  bestowed  on  his  relations;  the  whole  was  placed  at 
his  wife's  disposal.  "  I  that  never  yet  had  any  money 
to  think  about,  should  be  surprised  if  I  troubled  my 
head  about  it,"  he  told  his  old  intimate  and  business 
manager,  Davison  (the  rich  contractor  of  St.  James's 
Square),  whom,  after  the  Nile  battle,  he  had  appointed 
agent  for  his  scanty  prize-money.  "  In  my  state  of 
health,  of  what  consequence  is  all  the  wealth  of  this 
world?  I  took  for  granted  that  the  East  India  Com- 
pany would  pay  their  noble  gift  to  Lady  Nelson;  and 
whether  she  lays  it  out  in  house  or  land,  is,  I  assure 
you,  a  matter  of  perfect  indifference  to  me.  .  .  .  Oh! 
my  dear  friend,  if  I  have  a  morsel  of  bread  and  cheese 
in  comfort  it  is  all  I  ask  of  kind  Heaven,  until  I  reach 
the  estate  of  six  foot  by  two  which  I  am  fast  approach- 
ing." It  was  not  long  before  Maltese  successes  had 
quite  restored  his  spirits,  and  Ball  could  write  to  say 
how  happy  it  made  him  to  think  that  "  His  Grace  " 
could  enjoy  exercise  in  company  with  the  Hamiltons. 
All  this  is  characteristic  of  a  tense  organisation  by  turns 
on  the  rack  and  on  the  rebound,  yet  with  an  evenness 
of  patriotism  and  purpose  immovable  beneath  its 
elasticity. 

Emma's  fever  of  enthusiasm  showed  no  abatement. 
She  immediately  gave  Nelson  the  pine-appled  teapot 
which  has  this  year  been  generously  presented  with 
other  relics  to  the  Greenwich  Painted  Chamber.  His 
letters  to  her  breathed  an  affectionate  respect.  "  May 
God  almighty  bless  you,"  one  of  them  closes,  "  and  all 
my  friends  about  you,  and  believe  me  amongst  the  most 
faithful  and  affectionate  of  your  friends."  Was  she 
not  the  "  Victory  "  who  had  crowned  him  with  honour? 
He  reposed  such  confidence  in  the  Hamiltons  that  dur- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  311 

ing  his  absences  he  empowered  them  to  open  all  his 
letters. 

But  already  there  appeared  a  seamier  side  to  Emma's 
heroic  gloss.  The  tmreinstated  Queen  still  ailed  in 
health  and  spirits.  She  had  set  her  heart  on  accom- 
panying the  King  to  Naples  in  his  projected  visit  this 
November,  yet  he  had  flatly  refused.  She  seems  to 
have  turned  from  the  pious  devotions  which  after  her 
darling  boy's  death  had  engrossed  her  to  the  delirium 
of  play.  The  King  loved  his  quiet  rubber,  but  he  was 
no  gambler.  The  Queen  gambled  furiously — all  her 
moods  were  extreme;  she  was  a  medley  of  passions. 
She  had  been  Emma's  lucky  star,  but  all  along  her  evil 
genius.  Emma  for  the  first  time  was  bitten  by  the 
mania.  Sir  William's  fortunes  were  crippled;  she 
might  sometimes  be  seen  nightly  with  piles  of  gold  be- 
side her  on  the  green  baize.  Troubridge  bluntly  re- 
monstrated. His  remonstrance,  however,  he  added, 
did  not  arise  from  any  "  impertinent  interference,  but 
from  a  wish  to  warn  you  of  the  ideas  that  are  going 
about,"  and  to  "  the  construction  put  on  things  which 
may  appear  to  your  Ladyship  innocent,  and  I  make  no 
doubt  done  with  the  best  intention.  Still,  your  enemies 
will,  and  do,  give  things  a  different  colouring."  To 
his  delight,  she  promised  him  to  play  no  more.  That 
promise  was  shortlived;  it  was  not  likely  to  last. 
Women  of  Emma's  buoyancy  and  volatile  salt  are  not 
easily  weaned  from  the  false  flutter  of  such  a  game. 
All  along  her  vein  had  been  one  of  thrill  under  un- 
certainty, and  her  whole  course  a  cast  for  high  stakes. 
"  I  wish  not  to  trust  to  Dame  Fortune  too  long,"  wrote 
Nelson  to  her  in  possible  allusion ;  "  she  is  a  fickle  dame, 
and  I  am  no  courtier."  And  reports — some  of  them 
untrue  and  most,  exaggerated — were  beginning  to  filter 
into  England  and  affront  the  regularities  of  red-tape. 
Nelson  was  depicted  as  Rinaldo  in  Armida's  bower. 


312  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

He  is  not  shown  to  have  himself  gambled,  but  it  was 
rumoured  that  he  assisted,  half  asleep,  at  these  revels, 
till  the  small  hours  of  the  morning,  and  this  though 
his  father  appears  to  have  been  unwell  at  the  time. 
That  she  played  with  Nelson's  money  to  the  tune  of 
£500  a  night — a  rumour  hardly  confirmed  by  his  bank- 
book. That  Sir  William  and  he  had  nearly  settled  dif- 
ferences by  duel — a  preposterous  idea.  That  the  royal 
bounty  to  her  amounted  to  a  value  some  five  times 
greater  than  it  seemingly  was.  That  the  singers  whom 
Emma  was  constantly  befriending  and  recommending 
were  a  byword  for  their  scandalous  behaviour.  It 
never  crossed  her  mind  that  anybody  wished  her  ill. 
Both  the  Hamiltons  and  Nelson  had  been  living  in  an 
isolated  fool's  paradise  of  popularity,  remote  from  the 
canons  or  the  realities  of  England.  They  hugged  the 
illusion  of  home  popularity.  Unpopularity,  whether 
deserved  or  due  to  envy  or  ill-nature,  usually  comes  as 
a  shock  and  a  surprise  to  those  who  have  provoked  it 
far  less  than  Lady  Hamilton.  She  had  long  passed 
the  patronage  of  that  English  society  which  only  con- 
dones in  a  parvenue  what  it  can  patronise.  It  now  re- 
sented her  intrusion,  while  it  resented  more,  and  with 
better  reason,  her  perpetual  association  with  Nelson, 
who  owned  himself  happy  with  the  Hamiltons  alone, 
and  suspicious  of  letters  being  opened.  The  Govern- 
ment too  had  now  decided  to  recall  Hamilton.  ;'  You 
may  not  know,"  Troubridge  told  her,  "  that  you  have 
many  enemies.  I  therefore  risk  your  displeasure  by 
telling  you.  I  am  much  gratified  you  have  taken  it,  as 
I  meant  it — purely  good.  You  tell  me  I  must  write 
you  all  my  wants.  The  Queen  is  the  only  person  who 
pushes  things;  you  must  excuse  me;  I  trust  nothing 
there,"  he  continues  with  personal  soreness,  "  nor  do  I, 
or  ever  shall  ask  from  the  court  of  Naples  anything  but 
for  their  service,  and  the  just  demands  I  have  on  them." 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  313 

His  motives  leak  out  in  the  concluding  sentences  about 
Lord  Keith :"...!  should  have  been  a  very  rich  man 
if  I  had  served  George  III.  instead  of  the  King  of 
Naples,  .  .  .  The  new  Admiral,  I  suppose,  will  send 
us  home — the  new  hands  will  serve  them  better,  as  they 
will  soon  be  all  from  the  north,  full  of  liberality  and 
generosity,  as  all  Scots  are  with  some  exceptions.'' 
Emma's  own  account  deserves  to  be  cited  also.  It  oc- 
curs in  a  letter  to  Greville,  hitherto  unnoticed,  is  per- 
fectly truthful,  and  seeks  to  protect  not  herself,  but 
her  husband  and  Nelson : — "  We  are  more  united  and 
comfortable  than  ever,  in  spite  of  the  infamous  Jacobin 
papers  jealous  of  Lord  Nelson's  glory  and  Sir  Will- 
iam's and  mine.  But  we  do  not  mind  them.  Lord 
N.  is  a  truly  vertuous  and  great  man ;  and  because  we 
have  been  fagging,  and  ruining  our  health,  and  sacri- 
ficing every  comfort  in  the  cause  of  loyalty,  our  pri- 
vate characters  are  to  be  stabbed  in  the  dark.  First  it 
was  said  Sir  W.  and  Lord  N.  fought;  then  that  we 
played  and  lost.  First  Sir  W.  and  Lord  N.  live  like 
brothers;  next  Lord  N.  never  plays:  and  this  I  give 
you  my  word  of  honour.  So  I  beg  you  will  contradict 
any  of  these  vile  reports.  Not  that  Sir  W.  and  Lord 
N.  mind  it ;  and  I  get  scolded  by  the  Queen  and  all  of 
them  for  having  suffered  one  day's  uneasiness."  l 

Yet  she  was  by  no  means  the  slave  of  her  new  excite- 
ment. She  tried  to  heal  old  wounds,  she  corresponded 
with  diplomatists ;  she  could  not  relinquish  her  part  of 
female  politician,  the  less  so  as  Hamilton  had  now  set- 
tled to  return  home  on  the  first  opportunity,  and  the 
Queen  was  desolated  at  the  mere  thought  of  separa- 
tion.2 The  Duchess  of  Sorrentino  besought  her  good 

1  Nelson  Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  269,  Lady  Hamilton  to  Greville, 
February  25,  1800. 

2 Morrison  MS.  444,  484.  In  the  first  Hamilton  tells  Greville 
"  the  Queen  is  really  so  fond  of  Emma  that  the  parting  will  be 


314  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

offices  from  Vienna,  and  in  urging  her  suit  Emma 
abused  the  King  so  roundly,  that  in  his  umbrage  he 
turned  violently  both  on  her  and  the  Queen.  A  heated 
scene  ensued — so  heated,  indeed,  that  the  monarch  de- 
manded Emma's  death  and  threatened  to  throw  her  out 
of  the  window  for  her  contempt  of  court.1 

Nelson's  acting  chief  command  expired  on  January 
6,  1800.  Ill,  and  with  a  fresh  murmur  of  "  unkind- 
ness,"  he  put  himself  under  Lord  Keith's  directions  at 
Leghorn.  The  blockade  of  Malta,  which  had  lasted 
over  a  year,  the  as  yet  uncaptured  remnant  of  the 
French  squadron  from  the  Nile,  the  resolve  that  the 
French  army  should  not  be  suffered  to  quit  Egypt — 
these  were  the  objects,  now  shared  with  Emma,  of  his 
thoughts  and  of  his  dreams.  He  determined  to  run 
the  risk  of  independent  action.  To  Malta  he  pro- 
ceeded instantly,  and  he  was  transported  with  joy  when 
he  captured  Le  Genereux,  though  he  had  yet  to  wait 
for  the  eventual  surrender  of  the  single  remaining 
frigate  to  his  officers.  "  I  feel  anxious,"  he  wrote  in 
February  to  Emma,  during  his  constant  correspond- 
ence with  the  Hamiltons,  "  to  get  up  with  these  ships, 
and  shall  be  unhappy  not  to  take  them  myself,  for  first 
my  greatest  happiness  is  to  serve  my  gracious  King 
and  Country,  and  I  am  envious  only  of  glory;  for  if  it 
be  a  sin  to  covet  glory,  I  am  the  most  offending  soul 
alive.  But  here  I  am  in  a  heavy  sea  and  thick  fog ! — 
Oh  God !  the  wind  subsided — but  I  trust  to  Providence 
I  shall  have  them.  Eighteenth,  in  the  evening,  I  have 
got  her — Le  Genereux — thank  God!  twelve  out  of 


a  serious  business."  In  the  second,  "  Emma  is  in  despair  at  the 
thought  of  parting  from  the  Queen."  Emma  herself  says, 
"  .  .  .  I  am  miserable  to  leave  my  dearest  friend.  She  cannot 
be  consoled." — Nelson  Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  272. 

1  He  became  excellent  friends,  however,  with  her  afterwards, 
and  joined  in  pleasant  messages  to  her  so  late  as  1803. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  315 

thirteen,  only  the  Guillaume  Telle  remaining;  I  am 
after  the  others.  I  have  not  suffered  the  French  Ad- 
miral to  contaminate  the  Foudroyant  by  setting  his  foot 
in  her."  By  the  end  of  March  the  end  of  the  Maltese 
blockade  was  in  sight,  and  Nelson  was  back  again  in 
Palermo.  His  health  was  so  "  precarious,"  that  he 
"  dropped  with  a  pain  in  his  heart,"  and  was  "  always 
in  a  fever."  Troubridge  was  deputed  to  finish  the 
Maltese  operations.  When  Nelson  heard  of  the  cap- 
ture of  the  Guillaume  Telle  through  Long  and  Black- 
wood,  his  cup  of  thankfulness  ran  over,  and  his 
despatch  to  Nepean  is  a  Nunc  dimittis. 

"  Pray  let  me  know,"  wrote  Ball  from  Malta  in 
March,  "  what  Sir  William  Hamilton  is  determined  on; 
he  is  the  most  amiable  and  accomplished  man  I  know, 
and  his  heart  is  certainly  one  of  the  best  in  the  world. 
I  wish  he  and  her  Ladyship  would  pay  me  a  visit ;  they 
are  an  irreparable  loss  to  me.  ...  I  long  to  know 
Lord  Nelson's  determination."  Ball  had  not  long  to 
wait.  Nelson  was  anxious  to  settle  affairs  finally  for 
Great  Britain  at  Malta, — a  settlement  that  eventually 
transferred  it  to  Britain  and  greatly  exasperated  Maria 
Carolina.  Sir  William  had  now  been  definitely  super- 
seded by  his  unwelcome  successor  Paget,  although  he 
allowed  himself  the  fond  hope  of  a  future  return.  He 
resolved  to  sail  on  the  Foudroyant,  accompanied  by  his 
friends  and  the  indispensable  poetess,  Miss  Knight.  On 
April  23  they  proceeded  from  Palermo  to  Syracuse — 
the  scene  of  Emma's  triumph  by  the  waters  of  Are- 
thusa.  Her  birthday  was  celebrated  on  board  by  toasts 
and  songs.  On  May  3  they  again  set  sail  and  anchored 
in  St.  Paul's  Bay  before  the  next  evening. 

Hitherto  only  rumour  had  been  busy  with  Nelson's 
philanderings.  Lord  St.  Vincent  persisted  to  the  last 
in  saying  that  he  and  Emma  were  only  a  simpering  edi- 
tion of  Romeo  and  Juliet — just  a  silly  pair  of  senti- 


316  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

mental  fools.  And  at  this  time  Sir  William  seems  to 
have  thought  the  same ;  it  was  all  Emma's  "  Sensibil- 
ity," all  Nelson's  loyal  devotion.  He  was  the  idol  of 
them  both.  But  this  voyage  southward  under  the  large 
Sicilian  stars  marks  the  climax  of  that  fence  of  pas- 
sion, the  first  approaches,  the  feints,  parries,  and  thrusts 
of  which  I  have  sought  to  depict.  The  "  three  joined 
in  one,"  as  they  called  themselves,  had  long  been  un- 
severed.  From  the  date  of  the  Malta  visit,  as  events 
prove,  the  liaison  between  the  two  of  the  trio  ceases  to 
be  one  of  hearts  merely.  The  Mediterranean  has  been 
the  cradle  of  religion,  of  commerce,  and  of  empire.  On 
the  Mediterranean  Nelson  had  won  his  spurs  and  ven- 
tured his  greatest  exploit;  on  it  had  happened  the  rise 
of  Emma's  passion  and  his  own,  and  it  was  now  to  be 
the  theatre  of  their  fall.1 

It  has  been  well  said  that  apologies  only  try  to  ex- 
cuse what  they  fail  to  explain,  and  any  apology  for 
the  bond  which  ever  afterwards  united  them  would  be 
idle.  Yet  a  few  reflections  should  be  borne  seriously 
in  mind.  The  firm  tie  that  bound  them,  they  them- 
selves felt  eternally  binding ;  no  passing  whim  had  fast- 
ened it,  nor  any  madness  of  a  moment.  They  had 
plighted  a  real  troth  which  neither  of  them  ever  either 
broke  or  repented.  Both  found  and  lost  themselves 
in  each  other.  Their  love  was  no  sacrifice  to  lower  in- 
stincts; it  was  a  true  link  of  hearts.  Nelson  would 
have  adored  Emma  had  she  not  been  so  beautiful.  She 
worshipped  him  the  more  for  never  basking  in  court  or 
official  sunshine.  And  their  passion  was  lasting  as 
well  as  deep.  Not  even  calumny  has  whispered  that 

1  From  a  passage,  however,  in  a  letter  from  Nelson  of 
February  17,  1801,  it  would  seem  to  have  happened  earlier. 
Cf.  Morrison  MS.  516:  "Ah!  my  dear  friend,  I  did  remember 
well  the  I2th  February,  and  also  the  two  months  afterwards. 
I  never  shall  forget  them,  and  never  be  sorry  for  the  con- 
sequences." 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  317 

Emma  was  ever  unfaithful  even  to  Nelson's  memory; 
and  Nelson  held  their  union,  though  unconsecrated, 
as  wholly  sacred  and  unalterable.  If  the  light  of  their 
torch  was  not  from  heaven,  at  least  its  intensity  was 
undimmed. 

Their  worst  wrong,  however,  was  to  the  defied  and 
wounded  wife.  Cold  letters  had  already  reached  Nel- 
son, and  rankling  words  may  already  have  been  ex- 
changed ;  Lady  Nelson's  jealousy  was  justified,  al- 
though as  yet  Nelson  never  meditated  repudiation. 
Emma  had  no  scruple  in  hardening  his  heart  and  her 
own  towards  one  whom  she  had  offended  unseen  and 
unprovoked;  she  would  suffer  none  to  dispute  her 
dominion.  Under  her  spell,  Nelson  perverted  the 
whole  scale  of  duty  and  of  circumstance.  In  his  en- 
chanted eyes  wedlock  became  sacrilege,  and  passion  a 
sacrament;  his  insulted  Fanny  seemed  the  insulter;  his 
Emma's  dishonour,  honour.  The  woman  who  had 
failed  to  nerve  or  share  his  genius,  turned  into  an  un- 
worthy persecutress  and  termagant;  she  who  had  suc- 
ceeded, into  the  pattern  of  womankind.  The  mistress 
of  his  home  was  confronted  by  the  mistress  of  his 
heart,  Vesta  by  Venus;  nor  did  he  for  one  moment 
doubt  which  was  the  interloper.  Unregenerateness  ap- 
peared grace  to  his  warped  vision.  Nothing  but  sin- 
cerity can  extenuate,  nothing  but  sheer  human  nature 
can  explain  these  deplorable  transposals.  The  reality 
for  him  of  this  marriage  of  the  spirit  without  the  let- 
ter, blinded  both  of  them  to  all  other  realities  outside 
it.  Emma's  few  surviving  letters  to  him  are  those  of 
an  idolising  wife.  One  unfamiliar  sentence  from  one 
of  his,  written  within  a  year  of  this  period,  speaks  vol- 
umes :  "  I  worship,  nay,  adore  you,  and  if  you  was 
single,  and  I  found  you  under  a  hedge,  I  would  in- 
stantly marry  you."  * 

1  Morrison  MS.  539,  Nelson  to  Lady  H.,  March  6,  1801. 


gi8  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

But  the  part  of  Sir  William  in  this  strange  alliance 
formed,  perhaps,  its  strangest  element.  Throughout, 
even  after  Greville  and  the  caricatures  in  the  shop  win- 
dows must  have  opened  his  eyes,  he  deliberately  shut 
them.  He  never  ceased  his  attachment  to  Emma  or 
abated  his  chivalrous  fealty  to  Nelson.  Those  feelings, 
incredible  as  it  may  sound,  were  genuinely  recipro- 
cated by  both  of  them.  He  seems  almost  to  have  more 
than  accepted  that  veil  of  mystification  with  which  the 
next  year  was  to  shroud  their  intimacy.  Indeed,  it  was 
Emma's  care  for  Nelson's  career,  and  Nelson's  for  her 
good  name,  that  constrained  the  fiction.  That  a 
woman  should  join  a  daughter's  devotion  to  an  old 
husband  with  a  wife's  devotion  to  the  lover  of  her 
choice,  is  a  phenomenon  in  female  psychology.  Swift 
towards  Stella  and  Vanessa,  Goethe  towards  Mina  and 
Bettina,  are  not  the  only  men  who  have  cherished  a 
dual  constancy ;  but,  as  a  rule,  the  woman  inconstant  to 
one  will  prove  inconstant  to  many  others. 

Miss  Knight  noticed  how  low-spirited  Emma  seemed 
on  the  return  passage  to  Palermo.  Indeed,  the 
familiar  stanzas  of  her  composing,  "  Come,  cheer  up, 
fair  Emma  " — a  line  often  repeated  in  Nelson's  later 
letters — were  prompted  by  this  unaccountable  melan- 
choly.1 Such  dispiritment  hardly  betokens  the  mood  of 
an  adventuress  intriguing  to  secure  a  successor  to  the 
fading  Hamilton.  Yet  such  was  Lord  Minto's  con- 
viction two  years  later.  It  is  curious  that  the  im- 
puters  of  craft  always  deny  her  a  spark  of  cleverness, 
and  they  must  certainly  have  thought  Nelson  much 

1  Nelson,  writing  to  Lady  Hamilton  in  the  following  year 
(only  three  days  before  Horatia's  birth),  says:  "When  I 
consider  that  this  day  nine  months  was  your  birthday,  and 
that  although  we  had  a  gale  of  wind,  yet  I  was  happy  and 
sang  '  Come,  cheer  up,  fair  Emma,'  etc.,  even  the  thoughts 
compared  with  this  day  make  me  melancholy." — Morrison  MS. 
503,  January  26,  1801. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  319 

stupider  than  themselves.  Worldlings  do  not  always 
know  the  world,  still  less  the  world  of  such  a  com- 
plex heart  as  Emma's.  Her  feelings  may  perhaps  be 
best  imagined  by  her  little  poem  sent  to  Nelson  at  the 
opening  of  his  last  year  on  earth. 

"  I  think  I  have  not  lost  my  heart, 

Since  I  with  truth  can  swear, 
At  every  moment  of  my  life, 
I  feel  my  Nelson  there. 

If  from  thine  Emma's  breast  her  heart 

Were  stolen  or  thrown  away, 
Where,  where  should  she  my  Nelson's  love 

Record,  each  happy  day? 

If  from  thine  Emma's  breast  her  heart 

Were  stolen  or  flown  away, 
Where,  where  should  she  engrave,  my  Love, 

Each  tender  word  you  say? 

Where,  where  should  Emma  treasure  up 

Her  Nelson's  smiles  and  sighs, 
Where  mark  with  joy  each  secret  look 

Of  love  from  Nelson's  eyes? 

Then  do  not  rob  me  of  my  heart, 

Unless  you  first  forsake  it; 
And  then  so  wretched  it  would  be, 

Despair  alone  will  take  it."1 

In  these  lines,  surely,  there  is  a  ring  of  "  les  larmes 
dans  la  voix." 

In  sixteen  days  the  Maltese  episode  was  over,  but 
Palermo  was  not  reached  for  eleven  days  more.  Nel- 
son had  pleaded  complete  exhaustion  as  his  reason  for 
being  unable  to  continue  at  present  in  his  subordinate 
command.  Lord  Spencer  sent  him  a  dry  and  sus- 
picious answer.  Nelson  desired  to  recruit  his  health 
at  home.  He  bemoaned  the  supineness  of  those  who 

1  Nelson  Letters,  vol.  ii.  p.  127. 


320  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

might  have  prevented  the  fresh  invasion  of  Italy.  Al- 
ready he  had  bidden  his  friend  Davison  to  announce 
his  impending  return  to  Lady  Nelson :  "  I  fancy,"  the 
mutual  friend  wrote  to  her,  "  that  your  anxious  mind 
will  be  relieved  by  receiving  all  that  you  hold  sacred 
and  valuable."  She  "  alternated  between  a  menace 
and  a  sigh."  But  she  was  not  to  behold  him  so  soon 
as  had  been  expected,  or  to  test  the  truth  of  what  had 
been  darkly  hinted.  The  Hamiltons  were  to  be  his 
companions,  and  the  Queen  had  for  the  last  three 
months  been  preparing  a  plan  for  their  joint  con- 
venience. Now  wholly  bereft  of  her  power  over 
and  the  affection  of  her  husband,  vainly  exerting  her- 
self to  induce  Lord  Grenville  to  retain  Hamilton  at  his 
post,  dreading  that  England  would  withdraw  her  fleet, 
suspicious,  too,  that  Britain  might  rob  the  Sicilies  of 
Malta,  she  resolved,  in  her  isolation,  to  visit  her  rela- 
tives at  Vienna,  after  a  private  and  political  visit  to 
Leghorn.  The  three  princesses  and  Prince  Leopold 
were  to  go  with  her,  and  Prince  Castelcicala,  bound  on 
a  special  mission  to  the  Court  of  St.  James,  was  to 
head  the  train  of  a  numerous  suite.  The  French  were 
now  once  more  beginning  to  defeat  the  Austrians,  and 
she  longed  to  set  off  before  it  might  be  too  late. 
What  so  natural  as  that  the  Tria  juncta  in  uno  should 
accompany  her  till  the  inevitable  wrench  of  parting? 

One  of  her  letters  to  Emma  three  months  previously 
reveals  at  once  the  state  of  her  own  perplexed  and  per- 
plexing mind,  her  reliance  on  Emma's  counsel,  and  the 
cause  of  Castelcicala's  mission.  So  much  depends  on 
the  point  of  view.  Throughout,  hers  had  been  utterly 
alien  to  the  average  Englishwoman's : — 

"  MY  DEAR  LADY, — I  have  been  compelled  by  a 
painful  affair  to  delay  my  reply,  and  I  write  this,  my 
dear  friend,  in  great  pain.  .  .  .  Do  you  remember  that 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  321 

on  Tuesday  evening  I  asked  you  if  you  had  received 
any  letter ;  you  told  me  no :  my  eyes  filling  with  tears, 
I  was  obliged  to  leave  you.  I  wrote  that  I  was  dread- 
fully depressed.  ...  I  send  you  the  substance  of  my 
letter  from  Circello.  The  official  one  seems  to  con- 
tain no  more,  but  as  this  fatal  packet  from  Paget  ap- 
pears to  hinge  upon  our  not  being  left  here  without  a 
minister  during  your  husband's  absence,  I  think  it  may 
yet  be  remedied.  I  am  in  despair.  I  am  excessively 
angry  with  Circello  for  not  having  more  strongly  op- 
posed it,  and  if  you,  my  good,  honest,  true  friends,  quit 
us,  let  them  leave  Keith  in  the  Mediterranean.  We 
begin  by  losing  you,  our  good  friends,  then  our  hero 
Nelson,  and  finally,  the  friendship  and  alliance  of  Eng- 
land; for  a  young  man  [Paget?]  liable  to  misbehave 
himself  through  the  temptations  of  wrong-headed  men 
who  will  induce  him  to  abuse  his  power,  will  not  be 
tolerated,  and  troubles  will  arise  from  it.  I  grieve 
to  cause  you  uneasiness ;  my  own  is  concealed,  but  bit- 
terly felt.  I  send  you,  my  good  friend,  the  original 
letter  from  Circello.  Do  not  let  Campbell  see  it,  or 
know  that  you  have  seen  it,  and  return  it  to-morrow 
morning.  .  .  .  Suggest  to  me  what  should  be  done  to 
prevent  this  misfortune  .  .  .  both  for  the  State  and 
for  my  feelings.  ...  7  will  do  whatever  you  counsel 
me.  ...  Do  not  afflict  yourself.  Tell  the  Chevalier 
I  have  never  felt  till  now  how  much  I  am  attached  to 
him,  how  much  I  owe  him.  My  eyes  swim  with  tears, 
and  I  must  finish  by  begging  you  to  suggest  to  me  what 
to  do,  and  believe  that  all  my  life  happy  or  wretched, 
wherever  it  may  be,  I  shall  be  always  your  sin- 
cere, attached,  tender,  grateful,  devoted,  sorrowful 
friend." 

None  the  less,  the  anniversary  of  King  George's 
birthday  was  celebrated  with  undiminished  fervour  at 
Palermo.  Every  member  of  the  royal  family  ad- 


322  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

dressed  separate  letters  of  compliment  to  Lady  Ham- 
ilton. Their  Anglomania  .still  prevailed. 

Among  these  valedictions  is  a  letter  of  less  formal 
interest.  Lady  Betty  Foster  had  commended  a 
protegee — Miss  Ashburner — to  Emma's  protection. 
She  had  married  a  Neapolitan,  and,  as  Eliza  Perconte, 
was  now  governess  to  one  of  the  princesses.  "  With 
me,"  she  says,  "  the  old  English  proverb,  '  out  of  sight, 
out  -of  mind,'  will  never  find  a  place."  Emma  had 
conciliated  all  but  the  Jacobins.  Her  unceremonious 
kindness  had  endeared  her  to  many  loving  friends 
among  the  lowest  as  well  as  the  highest.  The  sailors 
and  the  common  people  would  have  died  for  her. 
Her  absence  made  a  real  void.  Lord  Bristol  was  now 
once  more  at  Naples — it  is  a  pity  that  the  farewell  of 
one  so  unaccountable  is  missing.  Prince  Belmonte's, 
however,  is  not,  though  it  was  addressed  from  Peters- 
burg to  Vienna.  "  I  am  so  indebted  to  you,"  he  writes 
in  English,  "  and  you  deserve  so  much  to  be  loved, 
that  my  gratitude  and  sincere  friendship  will  last  till 
my  tomb.  God  bless  you  in  your  long  travels." 

Farewell  was  now  said  not  only  to  Palermo,  but  to 
Italy.  Nevermore  did  Emma  behold  "  the  land  of  the 
cypress  and  myrtle,"  the  land  of  her  hero's  laurels,  of 
her  husband's  adoption,  of  her  own  zenith.  It  must 
often  hereafter  have  haunted  her  dreams. 

She,  with  her  husband,  mother,  and  Miss  Knight, 
accompanied  the  Queen  and  Nelson  to  Leghorn.  They 
sailed  on  June  10,  and  anchored  five  days  later,  though 
Nelson's  usual  tempest  prevented  a  landing  for  two 
days  more.  This  marks  the  last  of  the  Foudroyant 
for  the  chief  actors  in  the  memorable  scenes  of  this 
and  the  previous  year.  It  had  proved  a  ship  of  his- 
tory and  of  romance.  Nelson  had  pressed  the  Govern- 
ment to  put  it  at  the  Queen's  disposal  as  far  as  Trieste, 
but  it  was  promptly  requisitioned  for  repairs;  Mrs. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  '323 

Grundy,  in  the  person  of  Queen  Charlotte,  may  have 
intervened.  Bitterly  disappointed,  its  barge's  crew  at 
once  petitioned  to  be  allowed  to  serve  in  any  ship 
which  their  great  Admiral  might  still  choose  for  his 
homeward  journey.  The  news  that  on  July  II  Nel- 
son had  struck  his  flag  spread  consternation  at 
Palermo. 

For  three  weeks  more  they  all  tarried  at  Leghorn. 
Nelson  and  his  party  met  with  a  royal  welcome,  and 
were  conducted  in  state  to  the  Cathedral  with  the 
Queen.  All  received  splendid  memorials  from  Maria 
Carolina.  Emma's  was  a  diamond  necklace  with 
ciphers  of  the  royal  children's  names  intertwined  with 
locks  of  their  hair.  The  Queen,  in  presenting  it,  as- 
sured her  that  it  was  she  who  had  been  their  means  of 
safety.  Nor  were  they  safe  at  present.  The  French 
army  was  gradually  advancing  towards  Lucca  in  their 
immediate  neighbourhood.  Nelson  sent  a  line  of  as- 
surance to  Acton  that  till  safety  was  secured  and  plans 
were  settled,  he  would  not  desert  the  Queen.  Emma 
was  still  paramount;  nor  was  it  long  before,  and  for 
the  last  time,  she  displayed  that  ready  presence  of 
mind,  and  power  of  popularity  with  crowds  that  had 
often  astonished  Maria  Carolina,  and  contributed  so 
much  to  Nelson's  admiration.  She  had  armed  the 
Lazzaroni  at  Naples,  she  harangued  and  pacified  the 
insurgents  during  their  stay  at  Leghorn. 

On  July  17  they  started  together  for  Vienna  by 
way  of  Florence,  Ancona,  and  Trieste. 

This  journey,  with  its  after  stages  of  fresh  pomp 
and  pageant  at  Prague,  at  Dresden,  and  at  Hamburg, 
was  the  most  ill-advised  step  that  Nelson  and  the  Ham- 
iltons  could  have  taken.  Had  they  proceeded,  accord- 
ing to  their  original  plan,  by  sea,  they  would  never 
have  so  irritated  the  motherland  which,  after  long  ab- 
sence, they  were  all  revisiting.  They  were,  indeed, 

Memoirs — Vol.  14 — 11 


324  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

quite  ignorant  of  the  prejudices  which  they  would  be 
called  upon  to  combat.  They  deemed  themselves  chil- 
dren of  the  world  by  virtue  of  their  association  with 
great  events,  great  persons,  and  a  great  career;  but  of 
our  island-world  they  had  grown  curiously  forgetful. 
Well,  indeed,  would  it  have  been  for  them  if  they  had 
remembered.  They  had  lived  in  a  hot-house;  they 
were  going  into  the  fog.  They  had  long  been  closely 
isolated  in  an  inner,  as  well  as  an  outer,  world  of  their 
own.  Every  one,  except  the  detestable  Jacobins,  had 
hymned  their  praises.  Nelson's  supreme  renown  had 
coloured  every  word  and  every  action.  For  them  the 
Neapolitan  and  Sicilian  court  stood  for  every  court 
elsewhere.  As  it  had  been  with  the  allies  of  Britain, 
so  would  it  prove  in  Britain  itself.  They  hugged  their 
illusions.  They  were  aware,  of  course,  of  whispers 
and  comments  and  suspicions,  but  these  they  derided  as 
the  makeshifts  of  envious  busybodies.1  Even  now 
Sir  William  gave  out  that  he  would  shortly  return,  a 
more  youthful  Ambassador  than  ever,  though  he  was 
even  more  worn  out  than  Nelson.  He  and  Emma 
were  under  the  wing  of  the  greatest  hero  on  earth,  who 
had  only  to  sound  the  trumpet  of  his  fame  for  the 
ramparts  of  official  Jericho  to  fall.  Emma  herself  was 

1  Lord  Minto,  writing  from  Vienna  in  March,  1800,  and  hoping 
that  Nelson,  who  was  worn  to  a  shadow,  would  take  Malta 
before  returning  home,  says :  "  He  does  not  seem  at  all  con- 
scious of  the  sort  of  discredit  he  has  fallen  into,  or  the  cause 
of  it,  for  he  writes  still  not  wisely  about  Lady  Hamilton  and 
all  that.  But  it  is  hard  to  condemn  and  use  ill  a  hero,  as  he 
is  in  his  own  element,  for  being  foolish  about  a  woman  who 
has  art  enough  to  make  fools  of  many  wiser  than  an  Admiral. 
.  .  .  Sir  William  sends  home  to  Lord  Grenville  the  Emperor 
of  Russia's  letter  .  .  .  [about  the  Maltese  decoration  for  the 
Maltese  service].  All  this  is  against  them,  but  they  do  not  seem 
conscious." — Minto  Life  and  Letters,  vol.  ii.  p.  114.  On  p.  139 
Lady  Minto  writes,  "  His  zeal  for  the  public  service  seems 
entirely  lost  in  his  love  and  vanity,  and  they  sit  and  flatter 
each  other  all  day  long." 


325 

in  her  most  aggressive  mood;  "  Nature  "  certainly  now 
outweighed  "  Sensibility  "  :  she  would  be  an  Ishmaelite 
in  face  of  icy  English  officialism  discrediting  each  of 
her  words  and  suspecting  her  every  step.  She  was  at 
length  conscious  of  what,  in  its  very  concealment,  was 
about  to  rivet  her  for  ever  to  her  lover.  She  would 
brave  it  out  with  nerves  of  iron  and  front  of  brass, 
for  that  which  other  women  were  incapable  of  endur- 
ing, her  strength  and  courage  could  achieve.  At 
Vienna  the  Empress  loaded  Maria  Carolina's  intimate 
with  attentions;  with  the  Esterhazys  she  was  the  ob- 
served of  all  observers.  The  bitter  parting  with  her 
Queen  but  nerved  her  to  greater  and  louder  demon- 
strations. When  hushed  diplomacy  sneered  and  snig- 
gered in  pointedly  remote  corners,  she  raised  her  fine 
voice  higher  than  ever  to  teach  John  Bull  on  the  Con- 
tinent a  lesson  of  robustness.  At  the  mere  hint  that 
English  influence  was  hoping  to  dissuade  the  Saxon 
Elector  from  receiving  one  who  was  the  friend  of  a 
Queen  and  an  Empress,  she  protested,  with  a  laugh, 
that  she  would  knock  him  down.  In  the  Saxon  cap- 
ital she  braced  herself  to  perform  her  Attitudes  to  per- 
fection; nobody  should  guess  her  real  condition.  She 
was  ill  at  ease,  and  to  mask  it  she  was  all  retaliation 
and  defiance.  The  finical  got  upon  her  nerves,  and  she 
on  theirs. 

And,  added  to  this,  the  tour  itself  combined  the 
features  of  a  royal  progress  and  of  a  travelling  show. 
At  Vienna  no  attentions  sufficed  to  prove  the  gratitude 
to  Nelson,  ay,  and  to  Emma,  of  the  Austrian  house. 
Lady  Minto  herself,  an  old  ally,  but  the  wife  of  an 
Ambassador,  who  soon  made  up  his  mind  never  to 
"  countenance  "  her,  stood  her  sponsor  at  the  drawing- 
room.  The  Bathyanis  vied  with  the  Esterhazys. 
Emma  was  constantly  with  Maria  Carolina  at  Schon- 
brunn  as  the  tearful  hour  of  separation  approached. 


326  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

The  Queen's  parting  letter,  which  begins  "  My  dear 
Lady  and  tender  friend,"  contains  one  notable  passage: 
"  May  I  soon  have  the  consolation  of  seeing  you  again 
at  Naples.  I  repeat  what  I  have  already  said,  that  at 
all  times  and  places,  and  under  all  circumstances, 
Emma,  dear  Emma,  shall  be  my  friend  and  sister,  and 
this  sentiment  will  remain  unchanged.  Receive  my 
thanks  once  more  for  all  you  have  done,  and  for  the 
sincere  friendship  you  have  shown  me.  Let  me  hear 
from  you;  I  will  manage  to  let  you  hear  from  me." 
We  shall  see  how  Maria  Carolina  kept  her  word.  It 
was  said  that  Emma  refused  from  her  the  offer  of  a 
large  annuity.  It  has,  of  course,  been  denied  that 
Emma  was  ever  endued  with  the  grace  of  refusal. 
But,  quite  apart  from  the  natural  pride  of  independ- 
ence, which  characterised  her  from  her  girlhood  to 
her  grave,  it  is  improbable  that  either  Hamilton  or 
Nelson  would  have  permitted  her  to  be  the  pensioner 
of  a  foreign  court. 

Banquets  and  functions  abounded,  and  they  were  not 
restricted  to  the  court.  Banker  Arnstein — "  the  Gold- 
smid,"  as  Lady  Hamilton  afterwards  called  him,  "  of 
Germany " — showered  his  splendours  upon  them. 
There  were  endless  concerts,  operas,  entertainments, 
excursions,  visits  of  ceremony  and  of  pleasure,  shoot- 
ing parties,  water  parties,  and,  it  must  be  owned, 
parties  of  cards.  One  of  their  fellow-guests  at  St. 
Veit,  a  castle  of  the  Esterhazys',  has  recorded  his 
hostile  impressions.  He  was  Lord  Fitzharris,  natu- 
rally annoyed  to  see  her  with  Nelson,  and  he  may  have 
lost  his  money  in  this  encounter,  and,  possibly,  his 
temper. 

"  Sunday,  grand  fireworks.  Monday  (the  four  de 
fete},  a  very  good  ball.  And  yesterday,  the  chasse. 
Nelson  and  the  Hamiltons  were  there.  We  never  sat 
down  to  supper  or  dinner  less  than  sixty  or  seventy 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  327 

persons,  in  a  fine  hall  superbly  illuminated;  in  short, 
the  whole  in  a  most  princely  style.  Nelson's  health 
was  drunk  with  flourish  of  trumpets  and  firing  of 
cannon.  Lady  Hamilton  is,  without  exception,  the 
most  coarse,  ill-mannered,  disagreeable  woman  we  met 
with.  The  Princess  with  great  kindness  had  got  a 
number  of  musicians,  and  the  famous  Haydn,  who 
is  in  their  service,  to  play,  knowing  Lady  H.  was  fond 
of  music.  Instead  of  attending  to  them,  she  sat  down 
to  the  faro  table,  played  Nelson's  cards  for  him,  and 
won  between  £300  and  £400.  .  .  ."  Haydn,  it  must 
be  thought,  was  hardly  a  suitable  accompaniment  to 
cards. 

When,  after  Dresden  with  its  fussy  state  and  so- 
lemnity, they  embarked  on  the  Elbe  for  Hamburg,  a 
stock  passage  in  the  diaries  of  a  charming  woman  re- 
lates how  that  other  Elliot,  who  was  minister  here 
(there  was  always  an  Elliot),  was  pained  to  the  quick 
of  his  refinement  by  the  noise  of  Emma  and  her  party; 
how  undignified  Nelson's  excitability  appeared  to  all; 
how  Sir  William,  to  prove  his  nimbleness,  "  hopped  " 
on  "  his  backbone,"  his  legs,  star  and  ribbon  "  all  flying 
about  in  the  air  " ;  how  he  and  his  friends  withdrew 
shuddering  at  the  shock  of  such  breaches  of  taste;  how 
relieved  they  were  when  bated  breath  was  restored, 
and  they  were  quit  of  these  oddities  and  vulgarities; 
how,  when  the  Nelsonians  at  last  got  on  board,  they 
looked  like  a  troupe  of  strolling  players;  how  Mrs. 
Cadogan  immediately  began  to  cook  the  Irish  stew  for 
which  her  daughter  clamoured,  while  Emma's  French 
maid  bawled  out  coarse  abuse  about  forgotten  provi- 
sions. Most  of  this  is  probably  true,  but  here  again 
the  point  of  view  needs  adjusting.  Fastidiousness  is 
as  movable,  and  sometimes  as  unbearable,  a  term  as 
vulgarity,  and  no  doubt  the  stiff  Elliot  would  have  been 
equally  troubled  at  a  violent  sneeze,  at  any  undue 


328  EMMA,  LADY  "HAMILTON 

emphasis  whatever,  or  infringement  of  etiquette.  He 
had,  it  must  be  owned,  good  reason  for  being  shocked 
at  Emma's  want  of  manners.  But  over-nicety  has  its 
own  pitfalls  also.  There  have  been  people  who  eat 
dry  toast  with  a  knife  and  fork.  There  are  others 
who  shiver  at  the  stir  of  an  unconventional  footfall  on 
the  pile  carpets  of  "  culture."  At  any  rate,  till  now 
nobody  had  ever  reproached  Sir  William,  a  paragon  of 
"  taste,"  with  violating  the  semblances  of  decorum. 
However  we  may  regret  Emma's  unpolished  "  coarse- 
ness," at  least  this  is  true:  blatant  and  self-assertive 
or  not,  she  had  certainly  carried  her  own  life  and  the 
lives  of  others  in  her  hand.  The  daughter  of  the 
servants'  hall  had  braved  crisis  without  blenching. 
The  son  of  the  Foreign  Office  had  of  necessity  per- 
formed its  function  of  words,  and  had  naturally  sacri- 
ficed himself  to  the  comme  il  faut. 

But  if  Emma,  at  bay,  thus  misbehaved,  whither  were 
her  inmost  thoughts  wandering? 

She  was  thinking  of  how  she  could  carry  matters 
through,  of  what  would  become  of  her  poor  Sir  Will- 
iam. She  was  thinking  of  Greville's  reception,  of 
Romney  and  Hayley  and  Flaxman,  and  her  old  friends. 
And  of  those  new  friends  which  Nelson  had  promised 
and  described  to  her;  of  his  pious  and  revered  father, 
whose  heart  must  be  broken  if  ever  he  guessed  the 
truth;  of  his  favourite  brother  Maurice,  whose  poor, 
blind  "  wife,"  beloved  and  befriended  by  Nelson  till 
she  died,  was  no  more  his  wedded  partner  than  she  was 
Nelson's;  of  his  eldest  brother — the  pompous  and 
bishopric-hunting  "  Reverend,"  a  schemer  and  a  gour- 
mand, who  added  the  sentimental  selfishness  of  Har- 
old Skimpole  to  the  mock  humility  of  Mr.  Pecksniff; 
of  that  brother's  cheery,  bustling  little  wife;  of  their 
pet  daughter  Charlotte,  whom  the  father  always  styled 
his  "  jewel " ;  of  the  son  already  destined  for  the 


329 

navy,  and  long  afterwards  designated  by  Nelson  to 
marry  Horatia;  of  his  two  plain-speaking,  plain-living 
sisters — sickly  Mrs.  Matcham  with  her  brood  of  eight, 
and  a  husband  always  absent,  ever  changing  plans  and 
abodes;  of  Mrs.  Bolton,  more  prosperous  and  more 
ambitious,  with  the  two  rather  quarrelsome  daughters 
for  whom  she  coveted  an  entry  into  the  world  of  "  de- 
portment "  and  fashion ;  of  Davison,  the  hero's  fickle 
factotum,  whom  Nelson  had  already  requested  to  find 
inexpensive  lodgings  in  London.  Beckford,  the  mag- 
nificent, had  put  his  house  in  Grosvenor  Square  at  the 
disposal  of  the  Hamiltons.  It  was  an  offer  of  self- 
interest,  for  he  was  already  manoeuvring  to  rehabilitate 
himself  by  bribing  his  embarrassed  kinsman  into  pro- 
curing him  a  peerage,  and  the  astute  Greville  suspected 
his  generosity  from  the  first.  Indeed  he  wrote  to  Sir 
Joseph  Banks  that  he  had  warned  his  uncle  of  "  conse- 
quences," and  that  he  "  hoped  to  put  him  out  of  the 
line  of  ridicule,"  even  if  he  could  not  "  help  him  to  the 
comfort  and  credit  to  whi^h  his  character  and  good 
qualities  entitle  him." 

At  Vienna  Emma  had  found  Nelson  yet  another  fac- 
totum in  the  person  of  the  interpreter  Oliver,  who  dur- 
ing the  next  five  years  was  so  often  to  be  the  de- 
positary of  their  secret  correspondence. 

From  Dresden  the  Nelsonians  repaired  to  Altona, 
from  Altona  to  Hamburg.  Their  sojourn  there  was 
the  most  interesting  of  all,  though  it  only  lasted  ten 
days,  before  the  three  embarked  in  the  St.  George 
packet-boat  for  London.  There  Emma,  who  had  met 
the  young  poet  Goethe,  now  met,  and  was  appreciated 
by,  the  aged  poet  Klopstock.  There  Nelson  met,  and 
afterwards  munificently  befriended,  the  unfortunate 
General  Dumouriez.  There  the  Lutheran  pastor  hast- 
ened many  miles  to  implore  the  signature  of  the  great 
man  for  the  flyleaf  of  his  Bible.  Hamburg  was  en- 


330  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

raptured  over  Emma's  "  Attitudes  "  and  her  person- 
ality, which  called  forth  an  interesting  book  by  a  well- 
known  author.  It  was  the  more  enraptured  when  the 
whole  party  witnessed  a  performance  at  the  "  German 
Theatre."  Both  Emma  and  Nelson  exhibited  their 
usual  generosity  towards  the  "  poor  devils  "  who  ap- 
plied to  them.  Another  and  a  different  experience  may 
be  also  mentioned  as  indicating  how  really  artless  they 
were.  A  wine  merchant  of  the  city  hastened  to  beg 
the  hero's  acceptance  of  his  offering — six  bottles  of 
the  rarest  hock,  dating  from  the  vintage  of  1625. 
Emma  was  warmly  grateful,  and  urged  Nelson  to  re- 
ceive the  present.  Nelson  took  it  with  the  thankful 
compliment  that  he  would  drink  a  bottle  of  it  after 
each  future  victory,  in  "  honour  of  the  donor."  This 
"  respectable "  wine  merchant  cannot  have  been  so 
simple  a  benefactor  as  he  appeared.  Hock  one  hun- 
dred and  eighty  years  old  must  have  been  quite  un- 
drinkable,  and  only  fit  for  a  museum. 

And  Nelson  was  wondering  whether  and  how  his 
wife  would  greet  his  arrival.  When,  on  November 
6,  they  reached  Yarmouth,  after  such  a  storm  that 
only  he  could  force  the  pilot  to  land,  that  wife  was 
absent  from  his  enthusiastic  welcomers.  Amid  the 
music,  the  bunting,  the  deputations  that  seized  his  one 
hand,  the  offended  Fanny  was  missing.  The  carriage 
was  dragged  by  the  cheerers  to  the  Wrestlers'  Inn,  be- 
fore which  the  troops  paraded.  The  whole  party 
marched  in  state  churchward  to  a  service  of  thanks- 
giving; the  town  was  illuminated,  his  departure  was 
escorted  by  cavalry;  but  the  wife,  no  longer  of  his 
bosom,  stayed  in  London  with  the  dear  old  rector, 
who  had  hurried  up  to  greet  him  from  Burnham- 
Thorpe.  The  two  days  before  the  capital  huzza'd  him, 
his  route  was  one  triumphal  procession.  His  own 
Ipswich  rivalled  Yarmouth,  and  Colchester,  Ips- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  331 

wich.  But  as  the  acclamations  of  the  countryside  rang 
in  their  ears,  a  single  thought  must  have  possessed  the 
minds  of  Nelson  and  of  Emma — the  thought  of  Fanny. 
Nelson  entered  London  in  full  uniform,  with  the  three 
stars  and  the  two  golden  medals  on  his  breast.1  It  was 
Sunday — a  day  which  witnessed  many  of  the  crises  in 
his  career.  They  all  drove  together  to  Nerot's  Hotel 
in  King  Street,  where  Greville  had  already  called  to 
welcome  his  uncle,  ailing  and  anxious  about  his  pen- 
sion. While  Lady  Hamilton  disguised  her  tremor, 
Nelson  was  left  alone  with  his  proud  father  and  the  in- 
dignant wife,  who  had  believed,  and  brooded  over, 
every  whisper  against  him — even  the  malicious  slan- 
ders of  the  Jacobins.  Joy  could  not  be  expected  of 
her,  but  a  word  of  pride  in  the  achievements  that  had 
immortalised  him,  and  won  her  the  very  title  which  she 
immoderately  prized,  she  might  surely  have  shown. 
Not  a  soft  answer  escaped  her  pinched  lips.  That 
night  must  have  been  one  of  hot  entreaty  on  the  one 
side,  and  cold  recrimination  on  the  other.  Her,  mind 
was  thoroughly  poisoned  against  him.  He  at  once 
presented  himself  at  the  Admiralty,  just  as  Hamilton, 
under  Greville's  tutelage,  at  once  repaired  to  my  Lord 
Grenville  in  Cleveland  Row.  Together  the  three  at- 
tended the  Lord  Mayor's  banquet  the  following  night, 
when  the  sword  of  honour  was  presented,  after  the  citi- 
zens of  London,  like  those  of  Yarmouth,  had  un- 
horsed the  car  of  triumph  and  themselves  drawn  it 
along  the  streets  lined  with  applauding  crowds,  to  the 
Mansion  House.  There  also  Lady  Nelson  was  absent. 
Whether  business  or  ovation  detained  him,  the  spectre 
abode  in  its  cupboard.  For  a  time  their  open  breach 

1  Medals  were  struck  to  commemorate  his  return.  On  one 
side  is  the  medallion ;  on  the  reverse  Britannia  crowning  his 
vessel  with  laurels.  The  legend  round  runs :  "  Hail,  virtuous 
hero !  Thy  victories  we  acknowledge,  and  thy  God."  And 
underneath,  "Return  to  England,  November  5,  1800." 


332  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

was  patched  up,  but  nevertheless  the  distance  between 
them  widened.  Nelson  was  to  aggravate  it  by  harping 
on  Emma's  virtues  and  graces  till  Fanny  sickened  at 
her  very  name.  Nor  could  Emma's  early  and  friendly 
approaches,  in  which  Sir  William  joined,  have  been 
expected  to  bridge  it  over.1 

Emma  soon  resumed  her  post  as  his  amanuensis,  his 
companion,  his  almoner,  his  vade  mecum.  Nelson 
again  accompanied  the  Hamiltons  on  their  speedy  visit 
to  Fonthill,  whose  bizarre  master  desired  to  compound 
for  a  peerage  with  Sir  William.  Prints  exist  of  the 
postchaise  with  postilions,  flambeaux  in  hand,  driving 
the  Nelsonians  into  the  Gothic  archway  of  that  fan- 
tastic demesne.  Nelson  may  well  have  thought,  "  Que 
diable  allait-il  faire  dans  cette  galere !  "  Beckford  had 
addressed  his  invitation  to  Emma  in  terms  of  ex- 
travagant flattery,  to  his  "  Madonna  della  Gloria." 
He  singled  out,  too,  her  performance  as  Cleopatra  for 
critical  and  special  admiration.  Yet  so  insincere  was 
he,  that  some  forty  years  afterwards  he  not  only  be- 
littled her  beauty  to  Cyrus  Redding,  but  claimed  the 
entire  brunt  of  service  to  Britain  for  Hamilton,  while 
his  ignorance  of  facts  is  shown  by  the  egregious  errors 
in  his  account. 

Nelson  and  Emma  were  always  in  evidence  together. 
He  ordered  his  wife  to  appear  in  public  with  himself 
and  the  Hamiltons  at  the  theatre.  Emma's  sudden 
faintness,  and  Lady  Nelson's  withdrawal  from  their 

1  Cf.  a  remarkable  letter  from  Lady  Hamilton  to  Lady  Nelson. 
It  bears  no  date,  but  must  refer  to  a  time  shortly  after  their 
return. — "  I  would  have  done  myself  the  honour  of  calling  on 
you  and  Lord  Nelson  this  day,  but  I  am  not  well  nor  in  spirits. 
Sir  William  and  myself  feel  the  loss  of  our  good  friend,  the 
good  Lord  Nelson.  Permit  me  in  the  morning  to  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you,  and  hoping,  my  dear  Lady  Nelson,  the 
continuance  of  your  friendship,  which  will  be  in  Sir  William 
and  myself  for  ever  lasting  to  you  and  your  family."  And  she 
closes  by  Sir  William's  proffer  of  any  service  possible. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  333 

box  with  her,  gave  the  wife  the  first  inkling  of  a 
secret  worse  even  than  she  had  suspected.  A  violent 
scene  is  said  to  have  occurred  between  the  two  women, 
and  Lady  Hamilton  used  to  assert  that  Nelson  wan- 
dered about  all  night  in  his  misery,  and  presented  him- 
self early  next  morning  to  implore  the  comfort  and 
the  companionship  of  his  friends.  Emma  and  Nelson 
continued  all  injured  innocence.  The  circumstances 
of  Horatia's  birth  in  the  January  following  were  to  be 
carefully  veiled  even  from  Horatia  herself;  nor  were 
they  ever  proved  till  some  fifty  years  afterwards,  and 
even  then  generally  disbelieved.  Henceforward  -Nel- 
son and  his  wife  were  strangers;  further  efforts  at 
reconciliation  failed.  By  the  March  of  1801  he  had 
provided  for  and  repudiated  her.  "  I  have  done,"  he 
was  to  write,  "  all  in  my  power  for  you,  and  if  I  died, 
you  will  find  I  have  done  the  same.  Therefore,  my 
only  wish  is  to  be  left  to  myself,  and  wishing  you  every 
happiness,  believe  that  I  am  your  affectionate  Nelson 
and  Bronte."  On  this  "  letter  of  dismissal  "  she  en- 
dorsed her  "  astonishment."  That  astonishment  must 
surely  have  been  strained. 

Without  question,  sympathy  is  her  due.  Without 
question  she  had  been  grievously  wronged.  But  her 
bearing,  both  before  she  had  reason  to  be  convinced  of 
the  fact  and  afterwards,  was  such  perhaps  as  to  de- 
crease her  deserts.  She  seems  to  have  been  more  ag- 
grieved than  heart-stricken.  From  this  time  forth  she 
withdrew  completely  from  every  member  of  his  fam- 
ily except  Maurice  and  the  good  old  father.  At  Bath, 
or  in  London,  she  sulked  and  hugged  her  grievance, 
her  virtue,  her  money,  and  her  rank.  She  proceeded 
— naturally — to  babble  of  the  woman  who  had  injured 
her,  and  the  husband  of  whom  she  had  been  despoiled. 
Nelson's  brother  and  sisters,  who  accepted  Emma, 
always  entitled  her  "  Tom  Tit,"  nor  would  they  con- 


334  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

cede  a  grain  of  true  love  to  her  disposition.  That  she 
was  not  the  helpmeet  for  a  hero  was  not  her  fault; 
it  was  her  drawback  and  misfortune.  She  failed  in 
the  temperament  that  understands  temperament,  and 
the  spirit  that  answers  and  applauds.  Her  piety  never 
sought  to  win  back  the  wanderer.  She  incensed  him 
by  desiring  even  now  to  rent  Shelburne  House.  She 
caused  him  to  feel  "  an  outcast  on  shore."  While  she 
could  have  avenged  her  cause  by  suing  for  a  divorce, 
she  preferred  to  avenge  herself  on  the  culprits  by  their 
punishment  in  being  barred  from  wedlock.  After  Nel- 
son's death  she  litigated  with  his  successor. 

This  was  Emma's  doing,  and  Nelson's.  They  were 
both  pitiless,  while  the  other  was  implacable.  Emma 
could  be  far  tenderer  than  gentle.  She  was  never  a 
gentlewoman,  nor  was  over-delicacy  her  foible.  Her 
"  Sensibility  "  did  not  extend  to  her  discarded  rival, 
whose  very  wardrobe  she  could  handle,  at  Nelson's 
bidding,  and  return.  She  rode  rough-shod  over  poor 
Lady  Nelson's  discomfiture.  "  Tom  Tit,"  she  told 
Mrs.  William  Nelson  in  the  next  February,  "  does  not 
come  to  town.  She  offered  to  go  down,  but  was  re- 
fused. She  only  wanted  to  go  to  do  mischief  to  all 
the  great  Jove's  relations.  'Tis  now  shown,  all  her  ill 
treatment  and  bad  heart.  Jove  has  found  it  out." 

It  is  a  sorry,  but  hardly  a  sordid  spectacle.  Rather 
it  is,  in  a  sense,  volcanic.1  Here  is  no  barter,  no  bal- 
ance of  interests  or  convenience.  It  is  a  passionate 
convulsion,  which  uprooted  the  wife.  I  can  but  vary 
the  apophthegm  already  quoted :  "  Apologies  only  try 
to  explain  what  they  cannot  undo." 

1  On  January  25  following  Nelson  wrote  to  her:  "Where 
friendship  is  of  so  strong  a  cast  as  ours,  it  is  no  easy  matter 
to  shake  it.  Mine  is  as  fixed  as  Mount  Etna,  and  as  warm  in 
the  inside  as  that  mountain." — Morrison  MS.  502. 


CHAPTER  XI 

FROM    PICCADILLY   TO    "  PARADISE  "    MERTON 

1801 

IT  was  not  long  before  the  Hamiltons  were  in- 
stalled in  a  new  abode,  No.  23  Piccadilly,  one  of 
the  smaller  houses  fronting  the  Green  Park.  Sir 
William  had  been  querulous  over  the  loss  of  so  many 
treasures  in  the  Colossus — among  them  the  second  ver- 
sion of  Romney's  "  Bacchante,"  which  has  never  to 
this  day  reappeared.  Most  of  their  furniture  had 
been  rifled  by  French  Jacobins.  Emma  promptly  sold 
enough  of  her  jewels  to  buy  furniture  for  the  new 
mansion,  and  these  purchases  were  afterwards  legally 
assigned  to  her  by  her  husband. 

Among  the  first  visitors  to  their  new  home  were 
Hayley  and  Flaxman,  whom  Emma  had  eagerly  in- 
vited. A  letter  from  the  latter  to  the  former  com- 
memorates an  interesting  little  scene.  As  they  entered, 
Nelson  was  just  leaving  the  room.  "  Pray  stop  a  lit- 
tle, my  Lord,"  exclaimed  Sir  William;  "  I  desire  you 
to- shake  hands  with  Mr.  Flaxman,  for  he  is  a  man  as 
extraordinary,  in  his  way,  as  you  are  in  yours.  Be- 
lieve me,  he  is  the  sculptor  who  ought  to  make  your 
monument."  "  Is  he  ?  "  replied  Nelson,  seizing  his 
hand  with  alacrity;  "then  I  heartily  wish  he  may." 
And  eventually  he  did. 

This  year  was  to  link  her  and  Nelson  for  ever.  It 
was  the  year  of  Horatia's  birth,  of  the  Copenhagen 

335 


536  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

victory,   of  the  preliminaries  to  the  acquirement  of 
Merton. 

"Sooner  shall  Britain's  sons  resign 

The  empire  of  the  sea  ; 
Than  Henry  shall  renounce  his  faith 
And  plighted  vows  to  thee! 

And  waves  on  waves  shall  cease  to  roll, 

And  tides  forget  to  flow, 
Ere  thy  true  Henry's  constant  love 

Or  ebb  or  change  shall  know."1 

"  I  want  but  one  true  heart ;  there  can  be  but  one 
love,  although  many  real  well-wishers,"  is  his  prose 
version  in  a  hitherto  unpublished  letter. 

These  were  the  refrains  of  all  this  year,  and,  indeed, 
of  the  little  span  allotted  to  Nelson  before  he  was  no 
more  seen. 

Emma  had  an  ordeal  to  pass  through  with  a  light 
step  and  a  bright  face.  She  had  forfeited  the  com- 
fort of  that  sense  of  innocence  which  she  had  wel- 
comed ten  years  before.  She  awaited  Nelson's  child, 
and  none  but  her  mother  and  Nelson  were  to  know  it. 
She  was  to  seem  as  if  nothing  chequered  her  dance  of 
gaiety.  Old  friends  flocked  around  her.  Greville  was 
a  constant  caller,  curious  about  her,  vigilant  over  his 
uncle.  Her  old  supporter,  Louis  Dutens,  was  also  in 
attendance.  The  stricken  Romney,  who  pined  for  the 
sight  of  her,  Was  now  in  the  north,  but  Hayley  and 
Flaxman  we  have  seen  in  her  company.  There  was 
Mrs.  Denis,  too,  her  singing  friend  at  Naples,  and  the 
hardly  used  Mrs.  Billington.  And — for  she  was  al- 
ways loyal  to  them — she  delighted  in  beholding  or 
hearing  from  her  humble  kindred  again :  the  Connors, 
the  Reynoldses,  the  Moores  of  Liverpool;  and  that 

kelson's  verses  enclosed  in  his  letter  to  Emma  of  February 
ii,  1801;  Nelson  Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  30. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  337 

daughter,  long  ago  parted  from  her  by  Greville,  Emma 
"  Carew."  And  there  were  Bohemian  refugees  from 
Naples,  the  Banti  among  their  number,  who  in  after 
days  were  less  than  grateful  to  their  impetuous 
patroness.  New  friends  also  pressed  for  her  acquaint- 
ance. There  was  Nelson's  "  smart "  relative  Mrs. 
Walpole,  a  fribble  of  fashion  in  the  Prince  of  Wales's 
set,  Mrs.  Udney  and  a  Mrs.  Nisbet,  with  their  frivolous 
on-hangers.  But,  more  acceptable  than  these,  were 
Nelson's  country  sisters  and  sister-in-law,  who  loved 
her  at  first  sight  and  never  relinquished  their  friend- 
ship. With  her  soul  of  attitudes,  she  must  have  felt 
herself  in  a  double  mood — heroic  under  strain,  and 
laughtersome  at  care.  The  artistic  and  musical  world 
raved  of  her  afresh ;  they  might  well  now  have  cele- 
brated her  both  as  "  La  Penserosa  "  and  "  L'Allegra." 
It  was  about  this  time  that  Walter  Savage  Landor 
sang  of  her — 

"  Gone  are  the  Sirens  from  their  sunny  shore, 
The  Muses  afterwards  were  heard  no  more, 
But  of  the  Graces  there  remains  but  one — 
Gods  name  her  Emma,  mortals,  Hamilton." 

And  perhaps  too  he  remembered  her  when  he  wrote 
of  Dido— 

"  Ill-starred  Elisa,  hence  arose 
Thy  faithless  joys,  thy  steadfast  woes." 

Of  old  she  had  been  praised  for  her  tarantella. 
Nothing  more  beautiful  could  be  imagined,  was  Lady 
Malmesbury's  verdict  more  than  five  years  earlier. 
How  was  Emma  now  to  trip  it  through  heavy  trial, 
and  hide  an  aching  heart  with  smiles  and  songs  ?  Mis- 
guided love  lent  her  strength,  and  its  misguidance 
found  out  the  way.  She  was  ready  to  sacrifice  every- 
thing, and  to  forsake  all  for  one  whose  absence  must 
mean  her  own  and  her  country's  glory.  Sir  William, 


338  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

out  of  the  saddle,  was  practically  in  hospital;  Nelson, 
practically  in  hospital,  longed  for  the  saddle  once  more. 

The  Northern  Coalition  threatened  a  now  isolated 
Britain  with  a  stroke  more  formidable  than  the  South- 
ern had  done  formerly.  Napoleon  was  exultant.  Sir 
William,  who  really  worshipped  Nelson,  and  for  whom 
Emma  cared  to  the  last,  found  himself  none  the  less 
rather  thankful  that  Nelson  was  off  in  search  of  fresh 
triumphs,  and,  with  him,  the  disturbing  clamour  of 
hero-worship.  He  longed  for  his  little  fishing  expedi- 
tions and  picture  hunts;  he  was  anxious  about  his  pen- 
sion,1 his  late  wife's  property  as  well  as  the  tatters  of 
his  own.  So,  committing  with  a  sigh  the  racket  of 
life  to  his  demonstrative  Emma,  he  resigned  himself  to 
the  worldly  wisdom  of  his  calculating  and  still  bachelor 
nephew,  Greville,  whose  ruling  motive  had  always  been 
interest.  Zeal  was  not  in  Greville's  nature,  but  some- 
thing like  it  coloured  his  coldness  whenever  chattels 
were  concerned.  He  was  studiously  respectful  to  Nel- 
son. He  was  amiably  attentive  to  his  "  aunt."  All 
the  same,  he  was  already  tincturing  Hamilton's  mind 
with  an  alien  cynicism ;  he  and  Sir  William  were  gradu- 
ally forming  a  little  northern  coalition  of  their  own. 
While  he  exerted  himself  in  assiduously  forwarding 
Sir  William's  claim  on  the  generosity  of  the  Govern- 
ment, he  took  good  care  to  discourage  any  expenditure 
that  might  anticipate  a  chance  so  doubtful. 

Nelson  was  in  a  fever  of  impatience  and  suspense, 
for  Emma,  for  his  country — his  two  obsessions — for 
all  but  himself.  He  was  ever  a  creaking  door,  but  his 
health,  though  in  his  eagerness  for  action  he  protested 
it  restored,  was  now  beyond  measure  miserable.  His 
eye  grew  inflamed,  his  heart  constantly  palpitated,  his 
cough  seemed  the  premonitor  of  consumption.  And 

1  He  wanted  a  real,  not  a  nominal,  £2000  a  year  from  Lord 
Grenville,  and  £8000  compensation. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  339 

vexations,  public  as  well  as  private,  troubled  him. 
The  authorities,  whether  in  the  guise  of  Cato,  or  of 
Paul  Pry,  or  of  Tartuffe,  hampered  his  every  step, 
while  the  curs  of  office  snapped  about  his  heels.  Added 
to  this,  he  had  been  forced  into  a  lawsuit — an 
"  amicable  squabble  "  he  terms  it — with  his  admired 
and  admiring  Lord  St.  Vincent,  who  laid  claim  to  the 
prize-money  of  victories  won  during  his  absence.  St. 
Vincent  had  retired  into  civil  service,  and  was  now  the 
mainspring  of  the  Admiralty,  in  which  the  new  Sir 
Thomas  Troubridge,  who  owed  his  rise  entirely  to 
Nelson,  had  also  found  the  snuggest  of  berths.  Both 
the  men  who  had  taught  Nelson,  and  the  men  that  he 
had  taught,  were  setting  up  as  his  critics  and  often  his 
spies.  His  coming  expedition  was  to  be  a  thirteenth 
labour  of  Hercules.  Yet  the  tribe  of  cavillers  could 
only  insinuate  (for  aloud  they  dared  not  speak)  of  his 
dalliance  with  Omphale.  At  least  they  might  have  re- 
membered that  Nelson  had  saved  them  and  his  coun- 
try, and  that  if  his  impulsiveness  gave  himself  away  to 
their  self-satisfied  ingratitude,  he  was  at  this  moment 
called  to  give  himself  up  on  the  altar  of  duty.  On 
Hardy,  and  Louis,  and  the  two  Parkers,  and  Berry  and 
Carrol,  he  could  still  count;  like  all  chivalrous  leaders, 
he  had  his  round  table,  and  this  was  his  pride  and 
consolation.  But  it  was  also  his  solace  to  remain  mag- 
nanimous, and  even  now  he  sent  the  most  generous 
congratulations  on  his  adversary's  birthday,  which 
were  warmly  and  honourably  reciprocated.  He  had 
hoped  for  supreme  command,  but  Sir  Hyde  Parker 
was  preferred :  Nelson  was  only  Vice-Admiral  of  the 
Blue.  Scarcely  had  he  been  in  London  a  fortnight 
when,  with  his  brother  William,  he  repaired  to  his 
flagship  at  Portsmouth,  to  superintend  the  equipment 
of  the  fleet.  He  had  already  taken  his  seat  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  though  he  had  still  to  complain  that 


340  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

his  honours  had  not  yet  been  gazetted.  He  had  ac- 
companied the  Hamiltons  on  their  Wiltshire  excursion. 
He  had  nominated  Hardy  his  captain.  On  January  13 
he  quitted  Emma,  it  might  be  for  the  last  time,  and 
with  Emma  he  left  both  his  new  hopes  and  old  ties. 
His  wife,  who  had  beaten  her  retreat  to  Brighton,  he 
had  now  irrevocably  renounced ;  his  mind  was  "  as 
fixed  as  fate,"  and  of  none  does  the  adage  "  Vestigia 
nulla  retrorsum  "  hold  good  more  than  of  Nelson ;  it 
was  not  long  before  he  wrote  significantly,  alluding 
to  her  West  Indian  extraction,  "  Buonaparte's  wife  is 
of  Martinique."  Lady  Nelson  had  made  no  advance, 
not  the  slightest  attempt  to  provide  him  for  the  voyage. 
"  Anxiety  for  friends  left,"  he  informed  his  "  wife  be- 
fore heaven  "  the  day  after  he  set  out,  "  and  various 
workings  of  my  imagination,  gave  me  one  of  those 
severe  pains  of  the  heart  that  all  the  windows  were 
obliged  to  be  put  down,  the  carriage  stopped,  and  the 
perspiration  was  so  strong  that  I  never  was  wetter,  and 
yet  dead  with  cold."  And  some  days  afterwards: 
"  Keep  up  your  spirits,  all  will  end  well.  The  dearest 
of  friends  must  part,  and  we  only  part,  I  trust,  to  meet 
again." 

By  mid-January  he  had  hoisted  his  flag  on  the  San 
Josef.  In  March  he  was  commanding  the  St.  George, 
the  vessel  which,  he  wrote  with  exaltation,  "  will 
stamp  an  additional  ray  of  glory  on  England's  fame, 
if  Nelson  survives;  and  that  Almighty  Providence, 
who  has  hitherto  protected  me  in  all  dangers,  and  cov- 
ered my  head  in  the  day  of  battle,  will  still,  if  it  be 
His  pleasure,  support  and  assist  me." 

Emma  had  earned  her  lover's  fresh  admiration  by 
steeling  herself  to  undergo  a  test  that  would  have 
prostrated  even  those  who  would  most  have  recoiled 
from  it.  She  and  Nelson  had  resolved  to  hide  from 
Sir  William  what  was  shortly  to  happen.  But  Emma 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  341 

would  take  no  refuge  in  absence  from  home ;  sne  would 
stand  firm  and  face  guilt  and  danger  under  her  own 
roof-tree.  Though  this  trial  might  cost  her  life,  she 
would  be  up  and  doing  directly  it  was  over.  If  for  a 
few  days  she  kept  to  her  room  with  one  of  those  at- 
tacks which  had  been  habitual  at  Naples,  who  but  her 
mother  and  herself  need  be  the  worse  or  the  wiser? 
The  sudden  blow  of  their  parting  under  such  cir- 
cumstances had  been  exceptionally  severe.  It  recalls 
the  famous  line  of  Fenelon: 

"  Calypso  ne  pouvait  se  consoler  du  depart  d'Ulysse." 

In  their  mutual  anxiety  they  framed  a  plan  of  cor- 
respondence, in  which  Emma  and  Nelson  were  to 
masquerade  as  the  befrienders  of  a  Mr.  Thomson,  one 
of  his  officers,  distracted  with  anxiety  about  the  im- 
pending confinement  of  his  wife,  who  was  bidden  to  en- 
trust herself  and  the  child  to  the  loving  guardianship 
and  "  kind  heart  "  of  Lady  Hamilton.  These  secret 
letters  were  all  addressed  to  "  Mrs.  Thomson,"  while 
Nelson's  ordinary  letters  Xvere  addressed  as  usual  to 
Lady  Hamilton.  Without  some  such  dissimulation 
they  could  have  very  rarely  corresponded,  for  their 
communications  were  constantly  opened ;  and,  even  so, 
Hamilton's  curiosity  must  have  been  often  piqued  by 
his  wife's  receipt  of  so  many  communications  in  Nel- 
son's hand  to  this  unknown  friend.  But  they  did  man- 
age to  exchange  fragments  even  more  intimate  than 
the  interpolations  in  the  body  of  these  extraordinary 
'  Thomson  "  letters.  Not  all  these,  nor  all  of  such  as 
he  possessed,  were  given  by  Pettigrew  in  his  convinc- 
ing proof  of  Horatia's  real  origin.  The  Morrison 
Collection  presents  many  of  Pettigrew's  documents  in 
their  entirety,  and  adds  others  confirming  them;  so 
also  do  the  less  ample  Nelson  Letters,  and  others  from 
private  sources. 


342  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Emma's  agitated  feelings  must  be  guessed  from  Nel- 
son's answers,  for,  as  he  assured  her  afterwards,  he 
deliberately  burned  all  her  own  "  kind,  dear  letters," 
read  and  fingered  over  and  over  again;  any  day  his 
life  might  be  laid  down,  and  he  feared  lest  they  might 
pass  into  hostile  hands.  From  one  of  hers,  however, 
written  at  Merton  a  year  later  in  commemoration  of 
the  victory  he  was  now  about  to  win,  something  of 
their  tenor  may  be  gathered : — 

"  Our  dear  glorious  friend,  immortal  and  great  Nel- 
son, what  shall  I  say  to  you  on  this  day?  My  heart 
and  feeling  are  so  overpowered  that  I  cannot  give  vent 
to  my  full  soul  to  tell  you,  as  an  Englishwoman  grate- 
full  to  her  country's  saviour,  what  I  feel  towards  you. 
And  as  a  much  loved  friend  that  has  the  happiness  of 
being  beloved,  esteemed,  and  admired  by  the  good  and 
virtues  Nelson,  what  must  be  my  pride,  my  glory,  to 
say  this  day  have  I  the  happiness  of  being  with  him, 
one  of  his  select,  and  how  gratefull  to  God  Almighty 
do  I  feel  in  having  preserved  you  through  such  glorious 
dangers  that  never  man  before  got  through  them  with 
such  Honner  and  Success.  Nelson,  I  want  Eloquence 
to  tell  you  what  I  feil,  to  avow  the  sentiments  of  re- 
spect and  adoration  with  which  you  have  inspired  me. 
Admiration  and  delight  you  must  ever  raise  in  all  who 
behold  you,  looking  on  you  only  as  the  guardian  of 
England.  But  how  far  short  are  those  sensations  to 
what  I  as  a  much  loved  friend  feil !  And  I  confess  to 
you  the  predominant  sentiments  of  my  heart  will  ever 
be,  till  it  ceases  to  beat,  the  most  unfeigned  anxiety  for 
your  happiness,  and  the  sincerest  and  most  disinter- 
ested determination  to  promote  your  felicity  even  at 
the  hasard  of  my  life.  Excuse  this  scrawl,  my  dear- 
est friend,  but  next  to  talking  with  you  is  writing  to 
you.  I  wish  this  day  I  ...  could  be  near  for  your 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  343 

sake.  .  .  .  God  bless  you,  my  ever  dear  Nelson.  Long 
may  you  live  to  be  the  admiration  of  Europe,  the  de- 
light of  your  country,  and  the  idol  of  your  constant,  at- 
tached Emma." 

She  is  "  still  the  same  Emma."  A  rhapsody  of 
"  None  but  the  brave  deserve  the  fair  "  rings  in  every 
line.  It  is  melodrama,  but  genuine  melodrama;  and 
melodrama  of  the  heart,  Nelson  loved.  It  was  what 
all  along  he  had  missed  in  his  wife,  who  had  lived  aloof 
from  his  career;  whereas  Emma  and  he  had  lived 
through  its  thrilling  scenes  together.  It  was  what  he 
himself  felt,  and  that  to  which  Emma  answered  with 
every  pulse.  At  no  time  was  she  in  the  least  awe 
of  her  hero,  whose  strong  will  and  gentle  heart  marked 
him  off  from  those  she  had  best  known.  With  Nel- 
son she  was  always  perfectly  natural,  using  none  but 
her  own  voice  and  gestures.  Had  she  been  really  the 
conventional  "  serpent  of  old  Nile  "  (and  it  is  odd  what 
an  historical  affinity  the  "  Nile "  has  had  to  "  ser- 
pents "  ) ,  that  part  would  thoroughly  have  clashed  with 
her  unchanging  outspokenness  of  tone.  Nelson  was 
always  emphatic  and  picturesque;  he  possessed  to  an 
eminent  degree,  both  in  warfare  and  otherwise,  the  in- 
tuition of  temperament  for  temperament.  Admitting 
idealisation,  I  cannot  think  that  he  was  absolutely  mis- 
taken in  Emma's. 

"  I  shall  write  to  Troubridge  this  day  "  is  Nelson's 
communication  to  Lady  Hamilton,  in  the  earliest  let- 
ter extant  of  the  "  Thomson  "  series,  penned  on  the 
passage  to  Torbay  only  four  days  before  the  child  was 
born,  "  to  send  me  your  letter,  which  I  look  for  as 
constantly  and  with  more  anxiety  than  my  dinner. 
Let  her  [Lady  Nelson]  go  to  Briton,  or  where  she 
pleases,  I  care  not;  she  is  a  great  fool,  and,  thank 
God!  you  are  not  the  least  bit  like  her.  I  delivered 


344  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

poor  Mrs.  Thomson's  note;  her  friend  is  truly  thank- 
ful for  her  kindness  and  your  goodness.  Who  does 
not  admire  your  benevolent  heart?  Poor  man,  he  is 
very  anxious,  and  begs  you  will,  if  she  is  not  able,  write 
a  line  just  to  comfort  him.  He  appears  to  feel  very 
much  her  situation.  He  is  so  agitated,  and  will  be  so 
for  2  or  3  days,  that  he  says  he  cannot  write,  and  that 
I  must  send  his  kind  love  and  affectionate  regards. 
...  I  hate  Plymouth."  Yet  Plymouth  had  just  con- 
ferred on  him  the  freedom  of  the  city.  Nelson's  whole 
soul  was  with  Emma;  in  the  suspense  of  fatherhood 
he  shrank  into  himself  and  recoiled  from  publicity. 
He  had  no  compunctions  about  Lady  Nelson.  On  the 
very  evening  of  the  Plymouth  honours  he  had 
despatched  a  remarkable  epistle,  published  by  its  owner 
last  year.  Nelson  was  never  rich,  and  his  allowance 
of  £2000  a  year  to  his  wife  had  been  handsome  in  the 
extreme.  Nelson  had  already  heard  with  incredulity 
"0 nonsensical  reports  "  that  Lady  Nelson  was  instruct- 
ing the  agent  to  buy  a  "  fine  house  for  him."  From 
his  wife,  he  now  acquaints  Emma,  he  had  received  but 
half  one  side  of  a  slip  of  paper  to  tell  him  of  her  cold 
and  her  withdrawal  from  London.  He  alludes  to  a 
rumour  that  she  was  about  to  take  Shelburne  House. 
He  treats  it  with  scornful  ridicule.  He  had  just  met 
Troubridge's  sister  who  lived  at  Exeter,  "  pitted  with 
small-pox  and  deafer  far  than  Sir  Thomas."  Emma 
need  never  be  jealous.  "  Pray  tell  Mrs.  Thomson  her 
kind  friend  is  very  uneasy  about  her,  and  prays  most 
fervently  for  her  safety — and  he  says  he  can  only 
depend  on  your  goodness.  .  .  .  May  the  Heavens  bless 
and  preserve  my  dearest  friend  and  give  her  every  com- 
fort this  world  can  afford,  is  the  sincerest  prayer  of 
your  faithful  and  affectionate  Nelson  and  Bronte." 

Nelson  is  all  prayer  and  piety  for  Emma.     It  is  one 
of  the  most  singular  features  of  his  erratic  greatness 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  345 

that  he  lays  her,  the  coming  child,  and  himself  as  hum- 
ble and  acceptable  offerings  before  God's  throne.  His 
sincerity  resembles  in  another  plane  that  of  Carlyle, 
who,  in  some  of  his  epistles  to  his  mother,  translated 
his  own  earnest  free-thought  into  terms  of  the  Scotch 
Covenanter.  But  at  the  same  time  the  reader  is  often 
tempted  to  echo  what  the  same  Carlyle  objected  to  in 
French  eighteenth-century  sentimentalism :  "  So  much 
talk  about  Virtue.  In  the  devil  and  his  grandmother's 
name,  be  Virtuous  then !  " 

Every  night  Nelson  withdrew  after  the  day's 
fatigues,  and  amid  incessant  occupations,  to  hint  (when 
he  feared  to  pour  forth)  his  torture  of  anxiety  and 
passionate  fulness  of  unbounded  affection.  He  bade 
her  be  of  good  cheer.  He  assured  "  Mr.  Thomson  " 
of  her  "  innate  worth  and  affectionate  disposition." 
But  during  these  weary  days  of  waiting,  a  full  month 
before  Oliver  had  been  chosen  to  convey  his  famous 
and  self-convicting  letter,  he  must  have  disclosed  his 
inmost  soul  to  its  idol  through  him,  or  perhaps  through 
Davison,  who  at  this  very  time  had  travelled  over  two 
hundred  miles  to  pay  him  a  visit.  Another  letter  of 
far  less  reserve,  and  one  never,  so  far  as  I  know, 
cited,  exists  in  relation  to  the  coming  birth  of  the 
second  child — the  little  Emma  who  died  so  soon — in 
the  earlier  months  of  1804.  It  is  so  remarkable,  and 
probably  so  identical  with  others  which  he  must  have 
written  on  this  earlier  occasion,  that  I  subjoin  a  por- 
tion of  it  here,  venturing  to  fill  in  some  of  the  ex- 
cisions : — 

"  MY  DEAREST  BELOVED, — .  .  .  To  say  that  I  think 
of  you  by  day,  night,  and  all  day,  and  all  night,  but 
too  faintly  expresses  my  feelings  of  love  and  affection 
towards  you.  [Mine  is  indeed  an]  unbounded  af- 
fection. Our  dear,  excellent,  good  [Mrs.  Cadogan] 


346  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

is  the  only  one  who  knows  anything  of  the  matter;  and 
she  has  promised  me  when  you  [are  well]  again  to 
take  every  possible  care  of  you,  as  a  proof  of  her 
never-failing  regard  to  your  own  dear  Nelson.  Be- 
lieve me  that  I  am  incapable  of  wronging  you  in 
thought,  word,  or  deed.  No;  not  all  the  wealth  of 
Peru  could  buy  me  for  one  moment;  it  is  all  yours 
and  reserved  wholly  for  you.  And  .  .  .  certainly 
.  .  .  from  the  first  moment  of  our  happy,  dear,  en- 
chanting, blessed  meeting.  .  .  .  The  call  of  our  coun- 
try is  a  duty  which  you  would  deservedly,  in  the  cool 
moments  of  reflection,  reprobate,  was  I  to  abandon : 
and  I  should  feel  so  disgraced  by  seeing  you  ashamed 
of  me !  No  longer  saying,  '  This  is  the  man  who  has 
saved  his  country!  This  is  he,  who  is  the  first  to  go 
forth  to  fight  our  battles,  and  the  last  to  return ! ' 
.  .  .  'Ah!'  they  will  think,  'What  a  man!  What 
sacrifices  has  he  not  made  to  secure  our  homes  and 
property;  even  the  society  and  happy  union  with  the 
finest  and  most  accomplished  woman  in  the  world.' 
As  you  love,  how  must  you  feel!  My  heart  is  with 
you,  cherish  it.  I  shall,  my  best  beloved,  return — if  it 
pleases  God — a  victor;  and  it  shall  be  my  study  to 
transmit  an  unsullied  name.  There  is  no  desire  of 
wealth,  no  ambition  that  could  keep  me  from  all  my 
soul  holds  dear.  No ;  it  is  to  save  my  country,  my  wife 
in  the  eye  of  God.  ...  Only  think  of  our  happy  meet- 
ing. Ever,  for  ever  I  am  your's,  only  your's,  even 
beyond  this  world.  .  .  .  For  ever,  for  ever,  your  own 
Nelson."  1 

Emma  certainly  inspired  the  Nelson  who  delivered 
England;  and  for  all  time  this  surely  ought  to  out- 
weigh the  carping  diatribes  of  half-moralists  who  nar- 
row the  whole  of  virtue  to  a  part.  It  cannot  be  too 
much  emphasised  that  Nelson  loved  her  and  not  merely 
1  Nelson  Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  175,  "August  26  [1803]." 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  '347 

her  enhancements.  "  Thank  God,"  he  wrote  at  the  be- 
ginning of  February,  "  you  want  not  the  society  of 
princes  or  dukes.  If  you  happened  to  fall  down  and 
break  your  nose  or  knock  out  your  eyes,  you  might  go 
to  the  devil  for  what  they  care,  but  it  is  your  good 
heart  that  attaches  to  you,  your  faithful  and  affec- 
tionate Nelson."  x 

About  January  29,  in  a  week  of  storm,  Horatia  was 
born.  Within  the  week  Emma,  unattended,  had 
taken  the  baby  by  night  in  a  hackney  coach  to  the 
nurse,  Mrs.  Gibson,  of  Little  Titchfield  Street.  Within 
a  fortnight,  "  thinner  .  .  .  but  handsomer  than  ever," 
she  could  play  hostess  at  her  husband's  table;  in  three 
weeks  she  was  importuned  by,  though  she  refused  to 
entertain,  royalty.  From  first  to  last,  she  wrote  daily 
to  Nelson,  and  she  was  active  in  concealment.  Her 
force  of  will  and  endurance  at  this  juncture  pass  com- 
prehension. She  behaved  as  if  nothing  had  happened, 
though  she  must  seriously  have  deranged  her  health. 

"  I  believe,"  wrote  the  transported  father  so  soon 
as  her  glad  tidings  reached  him,  "  I  believe  dear  Mrs. 
Thomson's  friend  will  go  mad  with  joy.  He  cries, 
prays,  and  performs  all  tricks,  yet  dares  not  show  all 
or  any  of  his  feelings,  but  he  has  only  me  to  consult 
with.  He  swears  he  will  drink  your  health  this  day 
in  a  bumper,  and  damn  me  if  I  don't  join  him  in  spite 
of  all  the  doctors  in  Europe,  for  none  regard  you  with 
truer  affection  than  myself.  You  are  a  dear  good 
creature,  and  your  kindness  and  attention  to  poor  Mrs. 
T.  stamps  you  higher  than  ever  in  my  mind.  I  can- 
not write,  I  am  so  agitated  by  this  young  man  at  my 
elbow.  I  believe  he  is  foolish,  he  does  nothing  but 
rave  about  you  and  her.  I  own  I  participate  in  his  joy 
and  cannot  write  anything." 

It  is  noteworthy  that  the  eccentric  demeanour  of 
1  Letter  of  February  i,  1801. 


348  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

"  dear  Mrs.  Thomson's  friend  "  accords  with  what  was 
evidently  a  trait  in  the  Nelson  family;  for  Sir  Will- 
iam, describing  to  Nelson  the  joy  of  his  brother  "  the 
reverend  doctor,"  on  hearing  the  first  intelligence  of 
Copenhagen  while  dining  with  him  in  Piccadilly,  says : 
"  Your  brother  was  more  extraordinary  than  ever.  He 
would  get  up  suddenly  and  cut  a  caper;  rubbing  his 
hands  every  time  that  the  thought  of  your  fresh 
laurels  came  into  his  head." 

The  day  after  the  "  young  man  "  at  Nelson's  el- 
bow had  been  thus  disporting  himself,  Nelson  again 
addressed  Lady  Hamilton.  He  had  cut  out  two  lines 
from  her  letter  with  which,  he  declares,  he  will  never 
part.  He  had  exceeded  his  promise  of  the  clay  before, 
and  had  drained  two  bumpers  to  the  health  of  Mrs. 
Thomson  and  her  child  in  the  company  of  Troubridge, 
Hardy,  Parker,  and  his  brother,  till  the  latter  said  he 
would  "  hurt  "  himself :  "  that  friend  of  our  dear  Mrs. 
T.  is  a  good  soul  and  full  of  feeling,"  he  wrote ;  "  he 
wishes  much  to  see  her  and  her  little  one.  If  possible 
I  will  get  him  leave  for  two  or  three  days  when  I  go 
to  Portsmouth,  and  you  will  see  his  gratitude  to  you." 
Next  morning  he  communicates  with  her  indirectly  as 
"  Mrs.  Thomson."  Her  "  good  and  dear  friend  does 
not  think  it  proper  at  present  to  write  with  his  own 
hand,"  but  he  "  hopes  the  day  may  not  be  far  distant 
when  he  may  be  united  for  ever  to  the  object  of  his 
wishes,  his  only,  only  love.  He  swears  before  heaven 
that  he  will  marry  her  as  soon  as  possible,  which  he 
fervently  prays  may  be  soon.  Nelson  is  charged  "  to 
say  how  dear  you  are  to  him,  and  that  you  must  [at] 
every  opportunity  kiss  and  bless  for  him  his  dear  little 
girl,  which  he  wishes  to  be  called  Emma,  out  of  grati- 
tude to  our  dear,  good  Lady  Hamilton,  but  in  either 
[case?]  its  [name?],  [whether?]  from  Lord  N.,  he 
says,  or  Lady  H.,  he  leaves  to  your  judgment  and 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  349 

choice."  He  has  "  given  poor  Thomson  a  hundred 
pounds  this  morning  for  which  he  will  give  Lady  H. 
an  order  on  his  agents  " ;  and  he  begs  her  to  "  dis- 
tribute it  amongst  those  who  have  been  useful  to  you  on 
the  late  occasion;  and  your  friend,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Thomson,"  he  adds,  "  may  be  sure  of  my  care  of  him 
and  his  interest,  which  I  consider  as  dearly  as  my 
own.  .  .  ." 

But  perhaps  the  least  guarded  of  this  long  series  is 
a  fragment  to  be  found  in  the  old  volume  of  Nelson 
Letters,  though  Pettigrew's  transcripts  and  the  Morri- 
son- original  do  not  comprise  it.  It  bears  date  Febru- 
ary 16.  "  I  sit  down,  my  dear  Mrs.  T.,"  it  runs,  "  by 
desire  of  poor  Thomson,  to  write  you  a  line :  not  to 
assure  you  of  his  eternal  love  and  affection  for  you 
and  his  dear  child,  but  only  to  say  that  he  is  well  and 
as  happy  as  he  can  be,  separated  from  all  which  he 
holds  dear  in  this  world.  He  has  no  thoughts  sep- 
arated from  your  love  and  your  interest.  They  are 
united  with  his;  one  fate,  one  destiny,  he  assures  me, 
awaits  you  both.  What  can  I  say  more?  Only  to 
kiss  his  child  for  him :  and  love  him  as  truly,  sincerely, 
and  faithfully  as  he  does  you;  which  is  from  the  bot- 
tom of  his  soul.  He  desires  that  you  will  more  and 
more  attach  yourself  to  dear  Lady  Hamilton."  Only 
a  week  earlier  he  had  addressed  to  her  that  stirring 
passage  which  told  her  that  it  was  she  who  urged  him 
forth  to  glory,  that  he  had  been  the  whole  world 
round,  and  had  never  yet  seen  "  her  equal,  or  even  one 
who  could  be  put  in  comparison." 

Every  night  he  and  his  "  band  of  brothers  "  con- 
tinue to  raise  the  glass  to  the  toast  of  Emma.  Letter 
succeeds  to  letter,  affection  to  impatience,  and  impa- 
tience to  ecstasy.  He  makes  a  new  will,  bequeathing 
her,  besides  other  jewelled  presentations,  the  portrait 
which  Maria  Carolina  had  given  him  of  herself  at  part- 


350  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

ing;  charging,  too,  in  her  favour  the  rental  of  Bronte, 
but  on  this  occasion  only  in  the  case  of  the  failure  of  its 
male  heirs;  creating,  above  all,  a  trust  for  the  child,  of 
whom  "  Emma  Hamilton  alone  knows  the  parents,"  of 
whom  too  she  is  besought  to  act  as  guardian,  and  by 
her  honour  and  integrity  to  "  shield  it  from  want  and 
disgrace."  He  would  "  steal  white  bread  rather  than 
that  the  child  should  want."  He  and  she  are  to  be 
and  be  known  as  godparents  of  an  infant  in  whom  they 
take  a  "  very  particular  interest,"  and  he  especially  re- 
quests that  it  may  be  brought  up  as  "  the  child  of  her 
dear  friend  Nelson  and  Bronte."  He  discusses  the 
name;  Emma  had  evidently  begged  that  it  might  be  his, 
nor  hers  as  originally  proposed.  Let  it  be  christened 
"  Horatia "  and  be  registered,  anagramatically,  as 
"  daughter  of  Johem  and  Morata  Etnorb."1  As  for 
the  date  of  baptism,  he  leaves  it  entirely  to  his  Emma's 
discretion,  but,  on  the  whole,  after  some  hesitation 
he  favours  its  postponement,  since  a  clergyman  might 
ask  inconvenient  questions.  He  rejoices  to  hear  that 
the  baby  is  handsome,  for  then  it  must  be  like  his  dear 
"  Lady  Hamilton,"  between  whom  and  Mrs.  Thomson 
there  is  said  to  be  a  striking  resemblance.  After  all, 
there  is  no  immediate  hurry  to  settle  these  trifles.  He 
must  soon  rejoin  her,  if  only  for  a  day.  Till  March 
he  would  still  be  kept  off  the  English  coasts,  near  and 
yet  far  from  Emma ;  he  chafes  at  a  division  uncaused 
by  duty  or  by  distance.  He  will  run  up  so  soon  as 
"  Mr.  Thomson  "  can  get  leave,  and  propitiate  that 
watch-dragon,  Troubridge. 

Emma's  correspondence  with  Mrs.  William  Nelson 
from  the  latter  end  of  February  shows  how  and  when 
he  appeared  in  London.  But  before  he  hastened  to 
her  side,  a  curious  and  undetailed  episode,  mixing  a 
drop  of  bitter  disquiet  with  his  draught  of  rapture,  will 
**'.  e.  Horatio  and  Emma  Bronte. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  351 

be  followed  with  interest.  It  exhibits  Emma's  con- 
stancy and  fortitude  under  a  temptation  which  sur- 
prised her,  and  anguished  her  fretting  lover.  Her 
firmness  in  overcoming  it  and,  with  it,  his  jealousy, 
riveted  him,  if  possible,  more  closely  than  ever.  It 
pervades  every  one  of  Nelson's  letters,  from  the  Febru- 
ary of  this  year  to  the  end  of  March,  and  many  long 
afterwards. 

While,  strained  and  nervous  beyond  measure,  she 
now  awaited  Horatia's  birth,  she  was  annoyed  and 
alarmed,  though  probably  flattered  also,  by  a  message 
from  the  Prince  of  Wales — eager  to  bridge  over  the 
dull  interval  till  Parliament  might  pronounce  his  father 
imbecile  and  himself  Regent.  He  politely  commanded 
Sir  William  to  invite  him  to  dinner  on  a  Sunday  even- 
ing. It  was  his  desire  to  hear  Lady  Hamilton  sing, 
together  with  La  Banti,  who  was  now  in  London, 
and  whose  son  Nelson  actually  placed  in  the  navy 
together  with  Emma's  cousin,  Charles  Connor.  Sir 
William  was  anxious  to  obtain  from  the  Government 
not  only  his  full  pension,  but  also  a  liberal  reward 
for  the  heavy  losses  which  Jacobinism  had  inflicted  on 
his  property.  Moreover,  he  hoped,  though  in  vain,  for 
a  new  appointment — the  governorship  of  Malta.  The 
Prince's  aid  was  all-important  for  the  ex-Ambassador. 
He  had  been  more  than  civil  during  the  short  visit  of 
1791,  when  he  had  commissioned  portraits  of  the  fair 
Ambassadress ;  and,  though  an  ill-natured  world  might 
put  the  worst  construction  on  his  presence  in  Picca- 
dilly, Sir  William  trusted  to  Emma's  prudence  and  his 
own  interest.1  The  fiery  Nelson,  however,  infuriated, 

1  Cf .  his  letter  to  Nelson  of  Feb.  n,  Nelson  Letters,  vol.  ii. 
p.  200.  "...  She  has  got  one  of  her  terrible  sick  headaches. 
Among  other  things  that  vex  her  is — that  we  have  been  drawn 
in  to  be  under  the  absolute  necessity  of  giving  a  dinner  to  the 
P.  of  Wales  on  Sunday  next.  He  asked  it  himself,  having 
expressed  a  strong  desire  of  hearing  Banti's  and  Emma's  voices 


352  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

even  demented,  at  the  bare  suspicion,  ascribed  the 
whole  manoeuvre  to  the  bad  offices  and  influence  of 
Lady  Abercorn,  Mrs.  Walpole,  and  a  "  Mrs.  Nisbet," 
who  had  been  heard  publicly  to  assert  that  Lady  Ham- 
ilton had  "  hit  "  the  Prince's  "  fancy."  Sir  William, 
however,  was  now  once  more  under  Greville's  thumb, 
and  it  is  likely  that  the  mild  Mephistopheles  of  King's 
Mews  had  his  finger  in  this  pie.  At  a  moment  so  awk- 
ward, Emma  certainly  disbelieved  that  her  husband 
ever  did  more  than  countenance  the  affair.  She  was 
proud  of  her  talent,  and  pleased  at  the  sensation  it 
created  in  the  Duke  of  Queensberry's  circle.  But  the 
attentions  of  such  a  charmer  as  the  First  Gentleman  in 
Europe  were  doubtless  of  design;  and  she  was  on  her 
guard  at  the  outset,  though  in  after  years  she  cultivated 
the  new  friendship  of  the  Prince,  together  with  the 
long-standing  one  of  his  admiring  brothers.  Her  child 
had  half-hallowed  in  her  eyes  the  sin  that  sacrifice  had 
endeared,  and  she  resented  the  buzz  of  the  scandal- 
mongers. She  welcomed,  indeed  invited,  Nelson's 
plan  of  bringing  up  his  sister-in-law  to  the  rescue. 

Sir  William's  intention  that  the  royal  visit  should  be 
en  famille,  and  its  projected  secrecy,  worked  up  Nel- 
son's feelings  to  their  highest  pitch:  better  by  far,  if  it 
had  to  be,  a  big  reception.  In  the  end,  however,  no 
party  took  place,  still  less  was  there  any  eclat.  The 
Prince  was  baffled,  despite  Sir  William.  Emma 

together.  I  am  well  aware  of  the  dangers,  etc.  ...  As  this 
dinner  must  be,  or  he  would  be  offended,  I  shall  keep  strictly 
to  the  musical  part,  invite  only  Banti,  her  husband,  and  Taylor; 
and  as  I  wish  to  show  a  civility  to  Davison,  I  have  sent  him  an 
invitation.  In  short,  we  will  get  rid  of  it  as  well  as  we  can, 
and  guard  against  its  producing  more  meetings  of  the  same 
sort.  Emma  would  really  have  gone  any  lengths  to  have  avoided 
Sunday's  dinner.  But  /  thought  it  would  not  be  prudent  to 
break  with  the  P.  of  Wales,  etc.  ...  I  have  been  thus  explicit 
as  I  know  well  your  Lordship's  way  of  thinking,  and  your  very 
kind  attachment  to  us  and  to  everything  that  concerns  us." 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  353 

showed  that  she  could  renounce  vanity  for  love,  and 
that  she  dared  to  rebuff  importunity  in  high  places. 
Nelson's  mountain  brought  forth  a  mouse,  nor  did  he 
ever  cease  to  commemorate  his  appreciation  of  Emma's 
firmness — "  firm  as  a  rock/'  he  said  of  his  trust  in  her 
afterwards. 

Nelson  was  really  on  the  rack.  His  distracted  let- 
ters of  more  than  a  fortnight — until  his  apprehensions 
of  the  main  danger  had  been  calmed — present  a  strik- 
ing self-revelation,  and  are  doubly  interesting  because 
Emma's  own  letters  to  Mrs.  William  Nelson  supple- 
ment them.  It  is  only  through  his  own  words  that  we 
can  realise  his  feelings.  His  overwrought  nature  mag- 
nified every  shadow,  and  overbore  his  strong  common 
sense.  He  was  morbid,  and  conjured  up  suspicions 
and  anticipations  alike  unworthy  of  him.  Through- 
out his  life  his  geese  were  too  often  swans,  and  his 
betes  noires,  even  oftener,  demons.  His  Jeremiads 
sound  a  monotone.  He  tears  his  passion  to  tatters  in 
a  crescendo  of  self-torture.  The  man  whose  bracing 
and  unblenching  nerves  were  iron  in  action,  who  was 
shortly  to  urge  "  these  are  not  times  for  nervous  sys- 
tems," grew  unstrung  and  abased  when  his  immense 
love  lost  its  foothold  for  a  moment.  At  first  he  could 
scarcely  believe  that  "  Sir  William  should  have  a  wish 
for  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  come  under  your  roof"; 
no  good  could  come  from  it,  but  every  harm.  "  You 
are  too  beautiful  not  to  have  enemies,  and  even  one 
visit  will  stamp  you.  .  .  .  We  know  that  he  is  without 
one  spark  of  honour  in  these  respects  and  would  leave 
you  to  bewail  your  folly.  But,  my  dear  friend,  I  know 
you  too  well  not  to  be  convinced  you  cannot  be  se- 
duced by  any  prince  in  Europe.  You  are,  in  my 
opinion,  the  pattern  of  perfection."  "  Sir  William 
should  say  to  the  Prince  that,  situated  as  you  are,  it 
would  be  highly  improper  for  you  to  admit  H.R.H. 


354  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

That  the  Prince  should  wish  it,  I  am  not  surprised  at. 
.  .  .  Sir  William  should  speak  out,  and  if  the  Prince 
is  a  man  of  honour,  he  will  quit  the  pursuit  of  you. 
.  .  .  The  thought  so  agitates  me  that  I  cannot  write. 
I  had  wrote  a  few  lines  last  night  but  I  am  in  tears,  I 
cannot  bear  it."  "  I  own  I  sometimes  fear  that  you 
will  not  be  so  true  to  me  as  I  am  to  you,  yet  I  cannot, 
will  not  believe,  you  can  be  false.  No !  I  judge  you 
by  myself.  I  hope  to  be  dead  before  that  should  hap- 
pen, but  it  will  not.  Forgive  me,  Emma,  oh,  forgive 
your  own  dear,  disinterested  Nelson.  Tell  Davison 
how  sensible  I  am  of  his  goodness.  He  knows  my  at- 
tachment to  you.  .  .  .  May  God  send  .  .  .  happiness ! 
I  have  a  letter  from  Sir  William;  he  speaks  of  the 
Regency  as  certain;  and  then  probably  he  thinks 
you  will  sell  better — horrid  thought !"  "Your  dear 
friend,  my  dear  and  truly  beloved  Mr.  T.,  is  almost 
distracted;  he  wishes  there  was  peace,  or  if  your  uncle 
would  die,  he  would  instantly  then  come  and  marry 
you,  for  he  doats  on  nothing  but  you  and  his  child. 
.  .  .  He  has  implicit  faith  in  your  fidelity,  even  in  con- 
versation with  those  he  dislikes,  and  that  you  will  be 
faithful  in  greater  things  he  has  no  doubt."  When 
Emma  scolded,  and  sought  to  pique  him  by  a  piece  of 
jesting  jealousy  into  reason,  he  reassured  both  her 1 
and  himself  for  a  few  days;  but  on  February  n,  ad- 
dressing her  as  "  My  dear  Lady,"  he  tells  her  that  "  it 
is  very  easy  to  find  a  stick  to  beat  your  Dog,"  and  to 
find  a  pretext  for  blaming  one  "  who  will  never  for- 
get you,  but  to  the  last  moment  of  his  existence,  pray 
to  God  to  give  you  happiness  and  to  remove  from  this 
ungrateful  world  your  old  friend."  Three  days  later, 

1 "  Suppose  I  did  say  that  the  West  Country  women  wore 
black  stockings,  what  is  it  more  than  if  you  was  to  say  what 
puppies  all  the  present  young  men  are?  You  cannot  help  your 
eyes,  and  God  knows  I  cannot  see  much."  Morrison  MS.  514. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  355 

however,  he  again  changes  his  note ;  he  trusts  his  "  dear 
Lady  "  to  "  do  him  full  justice,  and  to  make  her  dear 
mind  at  ease  for  ever,  for  ever  and  ever."  But  on 
February  17  he  burst  out  afresh:  "  I  am  so  agitated 
that  I  can  write  nothing.  I  knew  it  would  be  so,  and 
you  can't  help  it.  Do  not  sit  long  at  table.  Good 
God !  He  will  be  next  you,  and  telling  you  soft  things. 
If  he  does,  tell  it  out  at  table,  and  turn  him  out  of  the 
house.  .  .  .  Oh,  God !  that  I  was  dead !  But  I  do  not, 
my  dearest  Emma,  blame  you,  nor  do  I  fear  your  con- 
stancy. ...  I  am  gone  almost  mad,  but  you  cannot 
help  it.  It  will  be  in  all  the  newspapers  with  hints. 
...  I  could  not  write  another  line  if  I  was  to  be  made 
King.  If  I  was  in  town,  nothing  should  make  me  dine 
with  you  that  damned  day,  but,  my  dear  Emma,  I  do 
not  blame  you,  only  remember  your  poor  miserable 
friend.  That  you  must  be  singing  and  appear  gay! 
...  I  have  read  .  .  .  your  resolution  never  to  go 
where  the  fellow  is,  but  you  must  have  him  at  home. 
Oh,  God!  but  you  cannot,  I  suppose,  help  it,  and  you 
cannot  turn  him  out  of  your  own  house.  ...  I  see 
your  determination  to  be  on  your  guard,  and  as  fixed  as 
fate.  ...  I  am  more  dead  than  alive  ...  to  the  last 
breath  your's.  If  you  cannot  get  rid  of  this,  I  hope 
you  will  tell  Sir  William  never  to  bring  the  fellow 
again."  "  'Tis  not  that  I  believe  you  will  do  any- 
thing that  injures  me,  but  I  cannot  help  saying  a  few 
words  on  that  fellow's  dining  with  you,  for  you  do 
not  believe  it  to  be  out  of  love  for  Sir  William.  .  .  . 
You  have  been  taken  in.  You  that  are  such  a  woman 
of  good  sense,  put  so  often  on  your  guard  by  myself 
[against]  Mrs.  Udney,  Mrs.  Spilsbury,  Mrs.  Dent, 
and  Mrs.  Nisbet.  ...  I  knew  that  he  would  visit  you, 
and  you  could  not  help  coming  downstairs  when  the 
Prince  was  there.  .  .  .  But  his  words  are  so  charming 
that,  I  am  told,  no  person  can  withstand  them.  If  I 

Memoirs— Vol.  14—12 


356  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

had  been  worth  ten  millions  I  would  have  betted 
every  farthing  that  you  would  not  have  gone  into  the 
house  knowing  that  he  was  there,  and  if  you  did, 
which  I  would  not  have  believed,  that  you  would  have 
sent  him  a  proper  message  by  Sir  William,  and  sent 
him  to  hell.  And  knowing  your  determined  courage 
when  you  had  got  down,  I  would  have  laid  my  head 
upon  the  block  with  the  axe  uplifted,  and  said  '  strike/ 
if  Emma  does  not  say  to  Sir  William  before  the  fel- 
low, '  my  character  cannot,  shall  not  suffer  by  per- 
mitting him  to  visit.'  .  .  .  Hush,  hush,  my  poor  heart, 
keep  in  my  breast,  be  calm,  Emma  is  true.  .  .  .  But 
no  one,  not  even  Emma,  could  resist  the  serpent's  flat- 
tering tongue.  .  .  .  What  will  they  all  say  and  think, 
that  Emma  is  like  other  women,  when  I  would  have 
killed  anybody  who  had  said  so.  ...  Forgive  me.  I 
know  I  am  almost  distracted,  but  I  have  still  sense 
enough  left  to  burn  every  word  of  yours.  .  .  .  All 
your  pictures  are  before  me.  What  will  Mrs.  Denis 
say,  and  what  will  she  sing — Be  Calm,  lie  Gentle,  the 
Wind  has  Changed?  Do  you  go  to  the  opera  to- 
night? They  say  he  sings  well.  I  have  eat  nothing 
but  a  little  rice  and  drank  water.  But  forgive  me.  I 
know  my  Emma,  and  don't  forget  that  you  had  once 
a  Nelson,  a  friend,  a  dear  friend,  but  alas!  he  has  his 
misfortunes.  He  has  lost  the  best,  his  only  friend,  his 
only  love.  Don't  forget  him,  poor  fellow!  He  is 
honest.  Oh!  I  could  thunder  and  strike  dead  with 
my  lightning.  I  dreamt  it  last  night,  my  Emma.  I 
am  calmer.  .  .  .  Tears  have  relieved  me;  you  never 
will  again  receive  the  villain  to  rob  me.  .  .  .  May  the 
heavens  bless  you!  I  am  better.  Only  tell  me  you 
forgive  me;  don't  scold  me,  indeed  I  am  not  worth  it, 
and  am  to  my  last  breath  your's,  and  if  not  your's,  no 
one's  in  the  world.  .  .  .  You  cannot  now  help  the  vil- 
lain's dining  with  you.  Get  rid  of  it  as  well  as  you 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  357 

can.     Do  not  let  him  come  downstairs  with  you  or 

hand  you  up.     //  you  do,  tell  me,  and  then ! " 

"  Forgive  my  letter  wrote  and  sent  last  night,  perhaps 
my  head  was  a  little  affected.  No  wonder,  it  was 
such  an  unexpected,  such  a  knock-down  blow;  such  a 
death.  But  I  will  not  go  on,  for  I  shall  get  out  of  my 
senses  again.  Will  you  sing  for  the  fellow  The 
Prince,  unable  to  conceal  his  Pain,  etc.  ?  No,  you  will 
not." 

And  here  follows,  like  a  lull  in  the  storm,  his  joy 
at  hearing  from  Emma  herself  that  Sir  William,  "  who 
asks  all  parties  to  dinner,"  was  not  to  have  his  way; 
she  had  resolved  to  evade  the  Prince.  He  cursed  the 
would-be  intruder.  Even  now  he  implored  her  not 
to  risk  being  at  home  that  next  Sunday  evening,  but 
to  dine  with  Mrs.  Denis.  If  the  Prince  still  insisted 
on  coming,  Emma  must  be  away.  But  till  he  had  cer- 
tainty he  would  continue  to  starve  himself.  He 
thanked  her  "  ten  thousand  times."  She  was  never 
to  say  that  her  letters  bored  him ;  they  were ' "  the 
only  real  comfort  of  his  life."  If  ever  he  proved  false 
to  her,  might  "  God's  vengeance "  light  upon  him. 
Parker  knew  his  love  for  her — "  who  does  not  ?  "  He 
was  "  all  astonishment  at  her  uncle's  conduct  " ;  as  for 
his  "  aunt,"  he  did  not  care  "  a  fig  for  her."  He  would 
buy  Madame  Le  Brun's  portrait  of  her  as  well  as 
Romney's.  Still,  the  yellow  demon  had  not  yet  quite 
deserted  him.  He  still  brooded  on  imaginary  fears 
and  scenes.  "Did  you  sit  alone  with  the  villain? 
No !  I  will  not  believe  it.  Oh,  God !  Oh,  God !  keep  my 
sences.  Do  not  let  the  rascal  in.  Tell  the  Duke  x  that 
you  will  never  go  to  his  house.  Mr.  G.2  must  be  a 
scoundrel.  He  treated  you  once  ill  enough  3  and  can- 
not love  you,  or  he  would  sooner  die.  ...  I  have  this 

1  Of  Queensberry.  'Greville. 

*This  is  proof  positive  that  Nelson  was  aware  of  Emma's  past. 


358  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

moment  got  my  orders  to  put  myself  under  Sir  Hyde 
Parker's  orders,  and  suppose  I  shall  be  ordered  to 
Portsmouth  to-morrow  or  next  day,  and  then  I  will 
try  to  get  to  London  for  3  days.  May  Heaven  bless 
us,  but  don't  let  that  fellow  dine  with  you.  .  .  .  For- 
get every  cross  word:  I  now  live."  That  very  night  he 
received  the  assurance  of  Emma's  staunch  determina- 
tion, however  Sir  William  and  Greville  might  remon- 
strate, and  his  answer  breathes  a  profound  and  rap- 
turous calm : — "  Your  good  sense,  judgment,  and 
proper  firmness  must  endear  you  to  all  your  friends, 
and  to  none  more  than  your  old  and  firm  friend  Nel- 
son. You  have  shown  that  you  are  above  all  tempta- 
tion, and  not  to  be  drawn  into  the  paths  of  dishonour 
for  to  gratify  any  prince,  or  to  gain  any  riches.  How 
Sir  William  can  associate  with  a  person  of  a  character 
so  diametrically  opposed  to  his  own — but  I  do  not 
choose,  as  this  letter  goes  through  any  hands,  to  en- 
ter more  at  large  on  this  subject.  I  glory  in  your 
conduct  and  in  your  inestimable  friendship.  ...  I 
wish  you  were  my  sister  that  I  might  instantly  give 
you  half  my  fortune  for  your  glorious  conduct.  Be 
firm!  Your  cause  is  that  of  honour  against  infamy. 
.  .  .  You  know  that  I  would  not,  in  Sir  William's 
case,  have  gone  to  Court  without  my  wife,  and  such 
a  wife,  never  to  be  matched.  It  is  true  you  would 
grace  a  Court  better  as  a  Queen  than  a  visitor." 
"  Good  Sir  William,"  he  added,  must,  on  reflection, 
"  admire  your  virtuous  and  proper  conduct." 

Nelson  never  forgot  or  ceased  to  praise  Emma's 
conduct  in  this  tickfish  transaction.  William  Nelson 
shared  his  brother's  admiration.  But  the  lover  holds 
her  aloft  as  a  matchless  example  in  letters  compatible 
with  the  most  platonic  affection.  She  is  incomparable. 
The  more  he  reads,  the  more  he  admires  her  "  whole 
conduct."  The  thought  of  it  inspired  that  "  Santa 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  359 

Emma  "  letter  written  in  the  May  of  this  very  year 
on  the  St.  George  off  Rostock,  one  excerpt  from  which, 
canonising  her  as  a  saint,  has  been  already  quoted.  It 
inspired  another  uncited  passage  addressed  to  Emma  a 
few  weeks  later.  "  I  now  know  he  never  can  dine  with 
you;  for  you  would  go  out  of  the  house  sooner  than 
suffer  it :  and  as  to  letting  him  hear  you  sing,  I  only 
hope  he  will  be  struck  deaf  and  you  dumb,  sooner  than 
such  a  thing  should  happen !  But  I  know  it  never  now 
can.  You  cannot  think  how  my  feelings  are  alive 
towards  you :  probably  more  than  ever :  and  they  never 
can  be  diminished." 

In  strength  of  will,  in  picturesqueness,  in  emphasis, 
in  courage,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  Nelson  and 
Emma  were  affinities. 

The  fresh  correspondence  between  Emma  and  Mrs. 
William  Nelson  is  interesting  in  relation  to  this 
episode,  for  through  it  we  are  enabled  to  hear  Emma's 
own  voice.  It  rings  out  true  and  clear,  confirming 
every  word  that  Nelson  uttered.  There  is  also  here 
and  there  a  touch  in  it  of  Emma  as  "  stateswoman  " 
once  more.  She  never  relaxed  her  interest  in  politics, 
and  she  was  still  in  correspondence  with  Maria  Caro- 
lina. 

Emma  had  welcomed  Nelson's  wish  that  his  sister- 
in-law  should  be  with  her  at  such  a  trying  moment. 
Unfortunately,  "  Reverend  Doctor  "  and  his  wife  had 
ended  their  stay  in  town  just  before  the  Sunday  of  the 
party  which  haunted  Nelson  came  round.  At  Nel- 
son's request,  however,  the  little  woman,  whose 
"  tongue,"  he  said,  "  never  lay  still,"  returned  in  the 
nick  of  time  to  fill  the  blank  caused  by  his  departure. 
On  the  very  Friday  of  Nelson's  two  letters  to  Emma, 
she  also  took  up  her  own  tale  to  Mrs.  Nelson.  She 
was  still  in  bed  with  a  headache :  ".  .  .  It  is  such  a  pain 
to  part  with  dear  friends,  and  you  and  I  liked  each 


.360  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

other  from  the  moment  we  met :  our  souls  were  con- 
genial. Not  so  with  Tom  Tit,1  for  there  was  an  an- 
tipathy not  to  be  described.  ...  I  received  yester- 
day letters  from  that  great  adored  being  that  we  all  so 
love,  esteem,  and  admire.  The  more  one  knows  him, 
the  more  one  wonders  at  his  greatness,  his  heart,  his 
head  booth  so  perfect.  He  says  he  is  coming  down  to 
Spithead  soon,  he  hopes.  Troubridge  comes  to  town 
to-day  as  one  of  the  Lords,  so  he  is  settled  for  the  pres- 
ent, but  depend  on  it,  my  dear  friend,  this  poor  patched- 
up  party  can  never  hold  long.  A  new  coat  will  bear 
many  a  lag  and  tag  as  the  vulgar  phrase  is,  but  an  old 
patched  mended  one  must  tear.  ...  I  am  so  unwell 
that  I  don't  think  we  can  have  his  Royal  Highness  to 
dinner  on  Sunday,  which  will  not  vex  me.  Addio,  mia 
Cara  arnica.  You  know  as  you  are  learning  Italian,  I 
must  say  a  word  or  so.  How  dull  my  bedroom  looks 
without  you.  I  miss  our  little  friendly  confidential 
chats.  But  in  this  world  nothing  is  compleat."  And 
here  Emma's  philosophy  follows : — "  If  all  went  on 
smoothly,  one  shou'd  regret  quitting  it,  but  'tis  the 
many  little  vexations  and  crosses,  separations  from 
one's  dear  friends  that  make  one  not  regret  leaving 
it.  .  .  ." 

On  February  the  24th  Nelson  hurried  to  London 
before  he  finally  set  out  for  the  Baltic  in  the  second 
week  of  the  next  month.  A  note  from  Emma  in  this 
new  series  describes  his  arrival  to  Mrs.  Nelson.  The 
letter  is  franked  by  Nelson  himself  to  "  Hillborough, 
Brandon,  Suffolk":— 

"  MY  DEAREST  FRIEND, — Your  dear  Brother  arrived 

this  morning  by  seven  o'clock.     He  stays  only  3  days, 

so  by  the  time  you  wou'd  be  here,  he  will  be  gone. 

How  unlucky  you  went  so  soon.     I  am  in  health  so  so, 

1  Lady  Nelson. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  '361 

but  spirits  to-day  excellent.  Oh,  what  real  pleasure 
Sir  William  and  I  have  in  seeing  this  our  great,  good, 
virtuous  Nelson.  His  eye  is  better.  .  .  .  Apropos 
Lady  Nelson  is  at  Brighton  yet.  The  King,  God  bless 
him,  is  ill,  and  there  are  many  speculations.  Some 
say  it  is  his  old  disorder.  .  .  ." 

And  on  the  next  day,  February  25 : — 

".  .  .  Your  good,  dear  Brother  has  just  left  me  to 
go  to  pay  a  visit  to  Mr.  Nepean,  but  is  coming  back 
to  dinner  with  Morice,  his  brother,  whom  he  brings 
with  him,  and  Troubridge  also.  We  shall  be  com- 
fortable, but  more  so  if  you  had  been  here.  Oh,  I 
wish  you  was,  and  how  happy  would  Milord  have  been 
to  have  had  that  happiness,  to  have  walked  out  with 
Mrs.  Nelson.  .  .  .  Our  dear  Nelson  is  very  well  in 
health.  Poor  fellow,  he  travelled  allmost  all  night, 
but  you  that  know  his  great,  good  heart  will  not  be 
surprised  at  any  act  of  friendship  of  his.  I  shall  send 
for  Charlotte  to  see  him  before  he  goes,  and  he  has 
given  2  guineas  for  her.  .  .  ." 

On  the  following  morning  again : — 

"  Yesterday  I  cou'd  not,  my  dearest  friend,  write 
much,  and  Milord  was  not  yet  returned  from  the  Ad- 
miralty time  enough  to  frank  your  letters,  and  sorry 
I  was  you  shou'd  pay  for  such  trash  that  I  sent  you, 
but  I  thought  you  wou'd  be  uneasy.  We  had  a  pleas- 
ant evening  ["  and  night  " — erased].  I  often  thought 
on  you,  but  now  the  subject  of  the  King's  illness  gives 
such  a  gloom  to  everything.  .  .  .  Mr.  Addington  is 
not  minister,  for  his  commission  was  not  signed  be- 
fore the  King  was  taken  so  ill,  so  Mr.  Pitt  is  yet  first 
Lord.  .  .  .  Our  good  Lord  Nelson  is  lodged  at 


362  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Lothian's;  Tom  Tit,  at  the  same  place  [Brighton]. 
The  Cub  x  is  to  have  a  frigate,  the  Thalia.  I  suppose 
HE  will  be  up  in  a  day  or  so.  I  only  hope  he  does  not 
come  near  me.  If  he  does,  not  at  home  shall  be  the 
answer.  I  am  glad  he  is  going.  .  .  .  Milord  has  only 
Allen  with  him.  We  supped  and  talked  politics  till  2. 
Mr.  East  [Este?]  who  is  a  pleasant  man,  was  with  us. 
.  .  .  Oh,  my  dearest  friend,  our  dear  Lord  is  just 
come  in.  He  goes  off  to-night  and  sails  imediately. 
My  heart  is  fit  to  Burst  quite  with  greef.  Oh,  what 
pain,  God  only  knows.  I  can  only  say  may  the  All- 
mighty  God  bless,  prosper,  and  protect  him!  I  shall 
go  mad  with  grief.  Oh,  God  only  knows  what  it  is  to 
part  with  such  a  friend,  such  a  one.  We  were  truly 
called  the  Tria  juncta  in  uno,  for  Sir  W.,  he,  and  I 
have  but  one  heart  in  three  bodies.  .  .  .  He,  our  great 
Nelson,  sends  his  love  to  you.  .  .  .  My  greif  will  not 
let  me  say  more.  Heavens  bless  you,  answer  your  af- 
flicted E.  H," 

From  Yarmouth,  after  a  brief  spell  of  final  prepara- 
tion, Nelson  sailed  for  the  double  feat  of  annihilating 
the  Northern  Confederation  single-handed,  and  nego- 
tiating with  a  mastery  both  of  men  and  management 
the  truce  that  preceded  the  Peace  of  Amiens.  Copen- 
hagen was  now  the  key  of  the  situation,  as  it  was  to 
prove  six  years  later,  when  Canning  saved  Europe 
from  the  ruin  of  Austerlitz  and  the  ignominy  of  Tilsit 
by  that  secret  expedition  which  would  have  glad- 
dened Nelson,  had  he  been  alive.  As  victor  and  peace- 
maker he  was  now  to  stand  forth  supreme.  '  Time 
is  our  best  ally,"  he  wrote  to  Lord  St.  Vincent  a  few 
days  later,  when  the  wind  caused  a  week's  delay  in 
the  start  of  the  refitted  ships.  "  I  hope  we  shall  not 
give  her  up,  as  all  our  allies  have  given  us  up.  Our 
1  Nelson's  stepson  Josiah  Nisbet. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  363 

friend  here  is  a  little  nervous  about  dark  nights  and 
fields  of  ice,  but  we  must  brace  up;  these  are  not  times 
for  nervous  systems.  I  want  peace,  which  is  only  to  be 
had  through,  I  trust,  our  still  invincible  navy  " ;  and, 
just  before  sailing,  he  made  a  declaration  to  Berry 
that  no  Briton  should  ever  forget: — ".  .  .  As  to  the 
plan  for  pointing  a  gun  truer  than  we  do  at  present,  if 
the  person  comes,  I  shall  of  course  look  at  it,  and  be 
happy,  if  necessary,  to  use  it.  But  I  hope  that  we 
shall  be  able,  as  usual,  to  get  so  close  to  our  enemies, 
that  our  shots  cannot  miss  their  object,  and  that  we 
shall  again  give  our  northern  enemies  that  hailstorm 
of  bullets  which  is  so  emphatically  described  in  the 
Naval  Chronicle,  and  which  gives  our  dear  country  the 
dominion  of  the  seas.  We  have  it,  and  all  the  devils 
in,  hell  cannot  take  it  from  us,  if  our  wooden  walls  have 
fair  play."  On  the  verge  of  battle  he  indited  three 
lines  meant  for  Emma's  eyes  alone :  "  He  has  no  fear 
of  death  but  parting  from  you." 

Emma  resumed  her  disconsolate  epistles  both  to 
him  and,  until  her  return,  to  Mrs.  William  Nelson. 
The  first  can  only  be  inferred  from  his  most  vehe- 
ment answers,  while  of  the  second  a  few  scraps  may 
find  appropriate  place. 

With  a  single  exception  she  had  withheld  nothing 
from  Nelson;  their  communion  was  unreserved.  But 
of  "  Emma  Carew,"  that  "  orphan,"  now  a  girl  of 
nineteen,  for  whom  she  was  still  caring,  who  was  soon 
to  be  put  under  the  alternate  charge  of  Mrs.  Denis  and 
of  Mrs.  Connor,  and  who  was  frequently  to  see  her 
undisclosed  mother  at  Merton,  she  seems  to  have  kept 
silence.  On  the  first  day  of  March  Nelson  addressed 
to  the  "  friend  of  his  bosom  "  that  most  remarkable 
letter  opening  "  Now,  my  own  dear  wife,"  which  has 
become  so  hackneyed.  He  at  last  found  a  full  vent 
for  his  feelings,  for  Oliver  was  the  bearer  of  the  paper. 


364  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

There  was  nothing,  he  said,  that  he  would  not  do  for 
them  to  live  together,  and  to  have  their  dear  little  child 
with  them.  He  firmly  believed  that  the  imminent  cam- 
paign would  ensure  peace,  and  then — who  knew? — 
they  might  cross  the  water  and  live  in  avowed  part- 
nership at  Bronte.  He  wanted  to  see  his  wife  no 
more,  but  until  he  could  quit  the  country  with  Emma 
(and  before  that  possibility  England  must  be  safe- 
guarded), there  could  be  no  open  union.  After  en- 
suring a  "  glorious  issue,"  he  would  return  with  "  a 
little  more  fame  "  for  his  Emma,  proud  of  him  and 
their  country.  "  I  never  did  love  any  one  else,"  he 
continues ;  "  I  never  had  a  dear  pledge  of  love  till  you 
gave  me  one,  and  you,  thank  my  God,  never  gave  one 
to  anybody  else.  .  .  .  You,  my  beloved  Emma,  and 
my  country  are  the  two  dearest  objects  of  my  fond 
heart,  a  heart  susceptible  and  true.  Only  place  confi- 
dence in  me  and  you  never  shall  be  disappointed."  He 
is  now  convinced  of  his  dominion  over  her.  He  protests 
in  the  most  passionate  phrases  his  longing  and  his  con- 
stancy. He  is  hers  all,  only,  and  always.  "  My  heart, 
body,  and  mind  l  is  in  perfect  union  of  love  towards 
my  own  dear  beloved  " — his  matchless,  his  flawless 
Emma. 

Yet  a  living  proof  of  flaw  lurked  in  oblivion.  We 
have  heard  Emma  in  1798  sighing  over  her  married 
childlessness.  Horatia,  Nelson's  Horatia,  was  at 
length  hers.  Horatia's  name  and  influence  tinge  his 
every  tone;  he  even  writes  to  the  babe-in-arms,  the 
child  of  his  own  heart.  As  Horatia's  mother,  Emma 
seems  holy  in  his  eyes.  Every  letter  that  he  kisses 
before  he  sends  it,  is  sealed  with  her  head;  each  of 
hers  with  "  Nelson  "  and  "  The  Nile,"  with  his  glori- 

1  It  is  worthy  of  notice  that  he  omits  "  soul."  In  a  much  later 
letter  to  her  he  says  that  his  being  is  hers  entirely,  but  that  his 
"  soul  "  is  his  Creator's. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  365 

ous  emblem — "  Honor  est  a  Nilo."  Was  it  now  pos- 
sible, at  this  longed-for  moment,  to  reveal  the  dark 
error  of  her  day's  clouded  opening?  She  had  been 
but  seventeen  when  that  other  daughter,  watched,  be- 
friended,  but  never  acknowledged,  had  been  born.  The 
foundling's  disavowal  had  been  wholly  the  work  and 
craft  of  Greville,  once  so  "  good,"  so  "  tender  "  to  her 
and  the  offspring  that  he  snatched  away  from  her 
girl's  embrace.  Was  this  the  moment,  she  might  well 
plead  with  the  Pharisees,  for  withdrawing  the  veil  that 
hid  Horatia's  half-sister  from  Nelson?  She  remained 
a  "  Protestant  of  the  flesh " — a  born  pagan.  As 
pagan  she  would  be  true  in  trial.  She  would  do  her 
duty  as  she  knew  it,  and  act  her  double  part  of  nurse 
and  wife.  She  would  be  generous  and  warm-hearted. 
But  such  surrender! — Was  it  in  human,  in  feminine 
nature?  Had  she  been  the  born  "  saint  "  of  Nelson's 
canonisation,  she  would  have  done  so  now.  Pale  and 
weeping,  she  would  have  humbled  herself  and  placed 
that  daughter  by  her  side  as  some  token  of  atonement. 
How  the  scribes  of  the  long  robe,  like  Greville,  would 
have  sneered,  how  Hamilton  would  have  smiled !  And 
Hamilton's  name — poor,  fading  Hamilton's — must 
surely  have  struck  some  chord  in  her  better  self.  Who 
was  she,  wrhat  manner  of  man  was  Nelson,  to  make  or 
exact  such  sacrifice !  Although  Sir  William's  own  re- 
cent weakness  had  endangered  her,  and  belittled  him 
before  Nelson,  they  still  esteemed  him — formed  to-- 
gether,  indeed,  his  right  hand.  And  yet,  whether 
Greville  and  he  had  guessed  the  truth  or  not,  to  him 
they  were  half  traitors — an  ugly  word  for  an  ugly 
fact ;  for  what  had  Caracciolo  been  but  a  traitor !  This 
was  a  moment  when  self -illusions  might  have  van- 
ished, and  Nelson's  Roman  virtue  might  have  list- 
ened to  the  stern  rebuke  to  David — "  Thou  art  the 
man."  Yet,  contrasted  with  the  lax  crew  of  Carlton 


366  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

House  and  many  at  St.  James's,  Nelson  and  she  were 
all  but  virtuous,  virtuous  sinners.  Would  her  sin, 
then,  ever  find  her  out  ?  Was  this  the  time  to  bare  her 
conscience  to  the  world  ? 

And  during  that  brief  London  visit  they  had  surely 
both  seen  the  child,  as  they  must  have  often  done  in 
the  two  succeeding  years.  Their  visits  suggest  a  strik- 
ing picture, — the  spare,  weather-beaten  man  in  the 
plain  black  suit,  with  the  firm  yet  morbid  mouth;  the 
beautiful  woman  longing  to  call  aloud  to  her  baby; 
the  little,  homely  room;  Nurse  Gibson  with  her  house- 
keeper air,  furtively  wondering  why  the  great  Lord 
Nelson  and  the  Ambassador's  lady  were  so  much  con- 
cerned in  this  work-a-day  world,  with  the  mysterious 
child  of  "  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Thomson." 

The  very  day  that  Emma  received  Nelson's  con- 
fession of  faith  in  her,  she  took  up  her  pen  once  more 
to  his  sister-in-law: — 

"  My  dearest  friend,  anxiety  and  heart-bleedings  for 
your  dear  brother's  departure  has  made  me  so  ill,  I 
have  not  been  able  to  write.  I  cannot  eat  or  sleep. 
Oh,  may  God  prosper  and  bless  him.  He  has  wrote 
to  Lord  Eldon  for  Mr.  Nelson.  You  will  have  him 
at  Yarmouth  in  two  days.  Oh,  how  I  envy  you !  Oh 
God,  how  happy  you  are !  .  .  .  My  spirits  and  health 
is  bad  endeed.  .  .  .  Tom  Tit  is  at  Brighton.  She  did 
not  come,  nor  did  he  go.  Jove,  for  such  he  is — quite 
a  Jove — knows  better  than  that.  Morrice  means  to 
go  to  Yarmouth.  The  Cub  dined  with  us,  but  I  never 
asked  how  Tom  Tit  was.  .  .  .  How  I  long  to  see  you; 
do  try  and  come,  for  God's  sake  do."  And  a  like 
burden  pervades  the  notes  of  days  following:  she  is 
"  so  very  low-spirited  and  ill  "  since  "  the  best  and 
greatest  man  alive  went  away."  She  has  "  no  spirit  to 
do  anything."  She  prays  Mrs.  Nelson  of  her  charity 
to  come.  They  can  then  "  walk  and  talk,  and  be  so 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  367 

happy  together."  She  can  hear  "  all  the  news  of  my 
Hero."  She  has  bought  Charlotte  presents,  and  will 
take  them  to  her.  The  King  is  better,  and  Tom  Tit  is 
in  the  country.  She  sends  every  message  to  "  little 
Horatio."  She  had  been  ill  all  night,  and  cannot  even 
take  the  morning  air.  For  the  second  time,  "  Calypso 
ne  pouvait  se  consoler  du  depart  d'Ulysse." 

Nelson  had  asked,  Emma  had  hoped,  that  she  and 
Sir  William  (for  Nelson  would  never  see  her  without 
her  husband)  might  run  down  to  Yarmouth,  and  bid 
him  and  the  St.  George  farewell.  But  "  his  eternally 
obliged  "  Sir  William  (possibly  warned  by  Greville) 
declined  with  civil  thanks.  He  was  dedicating  every 
moment  to  art.  Some  of  his  choicest  vases,  to  his 
great  joy,  had  turned  up  from  the  wreck.  Pending  the 
dubious  bounty  of  the  Government,  he  was  preparing 
to  sell  these  and  his  pictures  by  auction.  Among  the 
latter  were  three  portraits  of  his  wife.  Nelson  was 
furious  at  Emma  being  thus  for  the  second  time  "  on 
sale."  He  bought  the  St.  Cecilia,  as  has  been  re- 
counted earlier,  for  £300,  and  enshrined  it  as  a  true 
"  saint  "  in  his  cabin :  had  it  cost  "  300  drops  of  blood," 
he  would  "  have  given  it  with  pleasure."  And  almost 
up  to  the  date  of  departure,  renewed  uneasiness  about 
the  loose  set  that  Sir  William  now  encouraged  harassed 
him.  Should  she  ever  find  herself  in  extremities,  she 
must  summon  him  back,  and  he  would  fly  to  her  de- 
liverance. It  was  at  this  moment  that  in  once  more 
revising  his  will,  he  bequeathed  to  her  a  diamond 
star. 

It  is  strange  that  the  virtuously  indignant  Miss 
Knight's  pen  should  have  been  employed  in  celebrating 
the  loves  of  Nelson  and  Lady  Hamilton ;  yet  such  had 
been  the  case.  Nelson  retained  them  until  the  great 
battle  was  over,  when  he  enclosed  them  in  a  letter  to 
Emma : — 


368  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

"L'lNFELiCE  EMMA  AI  VENTI." 

"Blow,  blow,  thou  winter  wind, 
To  Love  and  Emma  kind ! 
Ah !  come !  more  grateful  far 
Than  perfumed  zephyrs  are. 
Blow,  blow,  and  on  thy  welcome  wing 
My  Life,  my  Love,  my  Hero  bring. 

Blest,  blest  the  compass  be 

Which  steers  my  love  to  me! 

And  blest  the  happy  gale 

Which  fills  his  homeward  sail; 

And  blest  the  boat,  and  blest  each  oar 

Which  rows  my  True  Lo've  back  to  shore." 

And  "  blest,"  one  might  add,  this  maudlin  trash. 
Robuster,  at  any  rate,  than  these,  surely,  is  the  mediocre 
set  that  Emma  composed  for  her  hero  in  the  same 
month. 

"  Silent  grief,  and  sad  forebodings 

,  (Lest  I  ne'er  should  see  him  more), 
Fill  my  heart  when  gallant  Nelson 
Hoists  Blue  Peter  at  the  fore. 

On  his  Pendant  anxious  gazing, 
Filled  with  tears  mine  eyes  run  o'er; 

At  each  change  of  wind  I  tremble 
While  Blue  Peter's  at  the  fore. 

All  the  livelong  day  I  wander, 

Sighing  on  the  sea-beat  shore, 
But  my  sighs  are  all  unheeded, 

When  Blue  Peter's  at  the  fore. 

Oh  that  I  might  with  my  Nelson 
Sail  the  whole  world  o'er  and  o'er, 

Never  should  I  then  with  sorrow 
See  Blue  Peter  at  the  fore. 

But  (ah  me!)  his  ship's  unmooring; 

Nelson's  last  boat  rows  from  shore; 
Every  sail  is  set  and  swelling, 

And  Blue  Peter's  seen  no  more." 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  369 

While  Nelson  reaped  fresh  laurels  to  lay  at  her  feet, 
Emma  waited  for  the  peace  which  should  bring  him 
back,  but  which  was  indefinitely  delayed.  Among  the 
frequenters  of  the  Piccadilly  household,  "  Old  Q."  and 
Lord  William  Douglas,  an  indefatigable  scribbler  of 
vers  de  societe,  remained  real  friends,  as  Nelson  con- 
stantly acknowledged,  but  the  Carlton  House  gang  still 
seems  to  have  pestered  her.  For  a  space  she  became 
cross  with  herself,  cross  with  Sir  William  and  cross 
even  with  Nelson,  whose  most  unselfish  devotion  to  her 
never  allowed  the  gall  in  her  imperious  nature  to  em- 
bitter its  honey.  But,  despite  her  own  ailments  and 
her  husband's,  she  soon  resumed  her  energy.  Never 
did  she  appear  to  better  advantage,  except  in  days  of 
danger,  than  in  those  of  sickness.  She  was  always 
trying  to  get  promotions  for  Nelson's  old  Captains,  and 
caring  for  his  proteges  and  dependants ;  she  even  acted 
as  Nelson's  deputy  in  urging  the  authorities  to  supply 
him  with  the  requisite  officers  so  often  denied  him, 
that  he  would  protest  himself  forgotten  "  by  the  great 
folks  at  home."  To  Nelson  she  wrote  constantly, 
pouring  out  her  heart  and  soul. 

From  Kioge  Bay  Nelson  sailed  to  Revel,  from  Revel 
to  Finland;  and  thence  Russia- ward  to  complete  his 
work  of  peace  by  an  interview  with  the  new  Czar,  and 
with  that  Count  Pahlen  who  had  headed  the  assassina- 
tors of  Paul  in  his  bedroom.  The  Russians  feted  him 
and  found  him  the  facsimile  of  their  "  young 
Suwaroff."  Nelson's  new  triumph — one  of  naviga- 
tion, of  strategy,  and  of  ubiquitous  diplomacy  as  well 
— which  had  again  saved  England  and  awoke  the  un- 
measured gratitude  of  the  people,  met  with  the  same 
chill  reception  from  the  Government  as  of  old.  Nel- 
son had  always  been  his  own  Admiral.  He  habitu- 
ally disobeyed  orders :  it  was  intolerable.  They  sus- 
pected the  armistice  that  he  had  made  in  the  thick  of 


370  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

the  battle ;  all  along,  the  white  flag  seems  to  have  pur- 
sued Nelson  with  misconstruction.  He  has  himself 
recorded  in  two  letters  to  Lady  Hamilton  a  telling  vin- 
dication, which  does  honour  to  his  humanity  and  to 
his  prudence.  He  did  not  conceal  his  vexation.  "  I 
know  mankind  well  enough,"  he  told  Hamilton,  "  to  be 
sure  that  there  are  those  in  England  who  wish  me  at 
the  devil.  If  they  only  wish  me  out  of  England, 
they  will  soon  be  gratified,  for  to  go  to  Bronte  I  am 
determined.  So  I  have  wrote  the  King  of  the  Two 
Sicilies,  whose  situation  I  most  sincerely  pity."  He 
comforts  himself  that  he  is  "  backed  with  a  just  cause 
and  the  prayers  of  all  good  people.  No  medals  were 
struck  for  Copenhagen ;  even  the  City  began  to  flag 
in  its  appreciation.  He  flew  out  against  the  Lord 
Mayor  who  had  once  said,  "  Do  you  find  victories,  and 
we  will  find  rewards."  It  was  not  for  himself  but 
for  his  officers  that  he  coveted  the  latter;  and  yet,  as  he 
was  to  write  in  the  following  year,  "  I  have  since  that 
time  found  two  complete  victories.  I  have  kept  my 
word.  They  who  exist  by  victories  at  sea  have  not." 
Nelson  "  could  not  obey  the  Scriptures  and  bless  them." 
The  victory  itself  he  extolled  as  the  most  hard-earned 
and  complete  in  the  annals  of  the  navy.  He  was  a 
bold  man,  Addington  told  him,  to  disregard  orders :  he 
rejoined  that  in  taking  the  risk  he  counted  on  Adding- 
ton's  support.  And  Nelson  was  further  troubled  not 
only  by  wretched  health  and  disappointment  at  the 
frustration  of  an  earlier  return,  but  by  the  blow  of  his 
brother  Maurice's  death.  Amid  his  own  engrossing 
avocations,  he  hastened  to  assure  the  poor  blind 
"  widow  "  that  she  was  to  cease  fretting  over  her  pros- 
pects, remain  at  Laleham,  and  count  on  him  as  a 
brother.  "  I  am  sure  you  will  comfort  poor  blind 
Mrs.  Nelson,"  he  writes  to  Emma. 

Both  Sir  William  and  Emma  cheered  him  under  de- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  371 

presssion.     He  had  now  done  enough,  wrote  Sir  Will- 
iam.    It  was  the  ne  plus  ultra.     He  quoted  Virgil : — 

"Hie  victor  caestus  artemque  reponam." 

As  for  Emma,  let  Sir  William's  words  depict  her  :— 
"  You  would  have  laughed  to  have  seen  what  I  saw 
yesterday.  Emma  did  not  know  whether  she  was  on 
her  head  or  her  heels — in  such  a  hurry  to  tell  your 
great  news,  that  she  could  utter  nothing  but  tears  of 
joy  and  tenderness."  Once  more  she  is  "  the  same 
Emma  " — the  Emma  after  the  battle  of  the  Nile. 

Nelson  responded  with  avidity  to  his  now  "  dearest, 
amiable  friend."  As  her  birthday  neared  he  reminded 
her  of  those  happy  times  a  year  gone  by,  and  con- 
trasted them  with  the  present — "  How  different,  how 
forlorn."  His  body  and  spirit,  like  his  ships,  required 
refitting.  His  "  dearest  wife  "  alone  could  nurse  him, 
and  only  her  generous  soul  comfort  the  "  forlorn  out- 
cast." He  half  hoped  that  the  Admiralty  wanted  to 
replace  him.  He  would  willingly  have  re-commanded 
in  the  Baltic,  should  emergencies  re-arise,  if  only  they 
would  concede  him  his  needed  interval  of  rest.  He 
"  would  return  with  his  shield  or  upon  it." 

With  his  shield  the  Pacificator  of  the  North  at  length 
landed  at  Yarmouth  on  the  ist  of  July.  He  repaired 
first  to  Lothian's  hotel,  as  usual,  but  he  was  soon 
ensconced  with  the  Hamiltons.  He  was  not  suffered  to 
remain  long.  While  the  King  and  Queen  of  Naples 
— still  Emma's  amie  sceur — were  besetting  him  with 
lines  of  sympathy  in  the  hope  that  he  might  re- 
emancipate  them  from  renewed  distress  in  the  Medi- 
terranean, Nelson  was  ordered,  at  the  end  of  July,  to 
baffle  Buonaparte  once  more  in  the  Channel.  The 
meditated  invasion  of  England  terrified  the  nation. 
Consols  tumbled,  panic  prevailed;  all  eyes  were  fixed 
on  the  one  man  who  could  save  his  country. 


372  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

But  an  unheroic  interlude  happened  before  his  worn 
frame  was  again  called  upon  to  bear  the  strain.  Emma 
it  was  who  took  him  out  of  town.  Their  first  ramble 
was  to  Box  Hill ;  and  thence  they  went  to  the  Thames. 
Sir  William,  as  angler,  frequented  the  "  Bush  Inn  "  at 
Staines — "  a  delightful  place,"  writes  Emma,  "  well 
situated,  and  a  good  garden  on  the  Thames."  "  We 
thought  it  right  to  let  him  change  the  air  and  often." 
She  had  been  ill  at  ease,  chafing  at  the  doubtful  predica- 
ment in  which  devotion  to  the  lover  and  care  for  the 
husband  increasingly  placed  her;  this  little  trip  might 
afford  a  breathing-space.  "  The  party,"  relates 
Emma,  "  consisted  of  Sir  William  and  Lady  Hamil- 
ton, the  Rev.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Nelson,  Miss  Nelson  and 
the  brave  little  Parker,  who  afterwards  lost  his  life 
in  that  bold,  excellent  and  vigorous  attack  at  Bou- 
logne, where  such  unexampled  bravery  was  shown  by 
our  brave  Nelson's  followers." 

"Old  Q."  and  Lord  William  Douglas,  detained 
with  a  sigh  in  town,  forwarded  their  apologies  in 
verse : — 

"  So  kind  a  letter  from  fair  Emma's  hands, 
Our  deep  regret  and  warmest  thanks  commands," 

and  so  forth.  It  satirises  the  parson's  gluttony  and 
banters  his  chatterbox  of  a  wife.  It  depicts  "  Cleo- 
patra "  rowing  "  Antony  "  in  the  boat.  It  dwells  on 
the  old  "  Cavaliere "  and  his  "  waterpranks,"  his 
"  bites,"  his  virtu,  his  memories  of  excavation,  and 
his  stock  of  endless  anecdotes.  It  holds  up  to  our 
view  poor,  fatuous  Hamilton  as  a  prosy  raconteur. 

"  Or,  if  it  were  my  fancy  to  regale 
My  ears  with  some  long,  subterraneous  tale, 
Still  would  I  listen,  at  the  same  time  picking 
A  little  morsel  of  Staines  ham  and  chicken; 
But  should  he  boast  of  Herculaneum  jugs, 
Damme,  I'd  beat  him  with  White's  pewter  mugs  " ; 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  373 

while  little  red-cheeked,  sloe-eyed  Charlotte,  rod  in 
hand,  yet  shuddering  at  the  fisherman's  cruelty  towards 
"  the  guileless  victims  of  a  murderous  meal,"  is  ad- 
jured to 

"  Heave  a  young  sigh,  and  shun  the  proffered  dish." 

Emma's  life  was  now  wholly  Nelson's;  it  is  a  relief 
to  pass  to  a  worthier  scene.  The  main  toils  of  the 
Channel  defence  were  over.  So  was  Nelson's  keen 
disappointment  in  the  deferred  arrival  of  the  Hamil- 
tons  to  visit  him  at  Deal  on  the  Amazon.  Sir  William 
had  been  with  Greville  to  look  after  the  Milford  estate. 
It  was  mid-September,  and  that  second  "  little  Parker," 
the  truest  friend  of  the  man  who  felt  that  "  without 
friendship  life  is  misery,"  lay  dying.  Nelson  had 
styled  himself  Parker's  father.  The  death  of  one  so 
young,  promising,  and  affectionate,  desolated  him,  and 
he  would  not  be  comforted.  It  was  Parker  who  had 
looked  up  to  him  with  implicit  belief  and  absolute  self- 
forget  fulness;  Parker  who  had  addressed  his  letters 
and  run  his  and  Emma's  errands ;  Parker  who,  he  had 
recently  told  her,  "  Knows  my  love  for  you ;  and  to 
serve  you,  I  am  sure  he  would  run  bare-footed  to 
London " ;  he  had  been  called  her  "  aide-de-camp." 
Together  Nelson  and  Emma  sat  in  the  hospital  and 
smoothed  the  pillows  of  the  death-bed.  Together  they 
listened  to  his  last  requests  and  bade  him  still  be  of 
good  cheer :  for  a  few  days  there  was  "  a  gleam  of 
hope."  On  September  27  he  expired,  and  Nelson  could 
say  with  truth  that  he  "  was  grieved  almost  to  death." 
The  solemnity  of  that  moment  can  never  quite  have 
deserted  Emma. 

Sad,  but  not  hopeless,  Nelson  was  purposely  kept 
hovering  round  the  Kentish  coast  until  his  final  release 
towards  the  close  of  October.  Yet  Emma  spurred  him 
to  his  duty.  "  How  often  have  I  heard  you  say,"  he 


374  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

wrote  to  her  at  this  very  time,  "  that  you  would  not 
quit  the  deck  if  you  came  near  a  Frenchman?"  He 
made  use  of  his  time  to  forward  Hamilton's  interests 
with  Pitt,  on  whom  he  called  at  Walmer,  but  found 
"  Billy  "  "  fast  asleep."  As  he  walked  back,  a  scene 
with  Emma  of  the  previous  spring  rose  again  before 
him :  "  The  same  road  that  we  came  when  the  carriage 
could  not  come  with  us  that  night ;  and  all  rushed  into 
my  mind  and  brought  tears  into  my  eyes.  Ah!  how 
different  to  walking  with  such  a  friend  as  you,  and 
Sir  William,  and  Mrs.  Nelson."  In  her  anxiety  for 
his  return,  Emma  actually  upbraided  him  with  being  a 
"  time-server."  The  Admiralty  would  not  yield  even 
"  one  day's  leave  for  Piccadilly."  It  was  the  I4th  be- 
fore he  could  tell  her  with  gusto  "  To-morrow  week 
all  is  over — no  thanks  to  Sir  Thomas."  Just  before 
he  struck  his  flag  he  wrote,  in  pain  as  usual,  "  I  wish 
the  Admiralty  had  my  complaint;  but  they  have  no 
bowels,  at  least  for  me." 

He  was  now  at  length  to  possess  a  homestead  and 
haven  of  his  own.  "  Whatever  Sir  Thomas  Trou- 
bridge  may  say,"  he  wrote  to  his  "  guardian  angel  "  in 
August,  "  out  of  your  house  I  have  no  home."  Soon 
after  the  Copenhagen  conquest,  he  and  his  "  dearest 
friend,"  at  this  moment  with  poor  Mrs.  Maurice  Nel- 
son, the  widow  of  Laleham,  had  been  mooting  to  each 
other  projects  for  such  a  nest.  He  would  like,  he 
wrote,  "  a  good  lodging  in  an  airy  situation."  A 
house  in  Turnham  Green  and  others  had  been  rejected, 
but  at  last  one  suitable  had  been  found.  Like  almost 
everything  connected  with  them  both,  difficulties  and 
a  dramatic  moment  attended  its  acquisition.  The  pre- 
liminaries of  the  Peace  of  Amiens  were  yet  a  secret, 
but  Nelson  had  informed  himself  of  the  coming  truce, 
so  acceptable  to  him.  Before  its  ratification  had  been 
divulged,  Merton  Place  was  bought — in  the  general  de- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  375 

pression — for  the  low  sum  of  about  six  thousand 
pounds.  But  even  this  amount  of  capital  was  not 
easy  for  Nelson  to  raise,  and  the  enthusiastic  Davison 
— one  of  the  few  friends  to  whom  Nelson  would  ever 
lie  under  the  slightest  obligation — lent  him  the  money. 
Sir  William  seems  to  have  objected  to  Emma's  town 
hospitality  to  her  relations.  Nelson  found  in  this  an 
additional  reason  for  purchasing  a  roof-tree  which  he 
desired  her  to  treat  as  her  own.  "  I  received  your  kind 
letters  last  evening,"  he  wrote  to  her  on  this  and  other 
heads,  "  and  in  many  parts  they  pleased  and  made  me 
sad.  So  life  is  chequered,  and  if  the  good  predom- 
inates, then  we  are  called  happy.  I  trust  the  farm  will 
make  you  more  so  than  a  dull  London  life.  Make 
what  use  you  please  of  it.  It  is  as  much  yours  as  if 
you  bought  it.  Therefore,  if  your  relative  cannot  stay 
in  your  house  in  town,  surely  Sir  William  can  have  no 
objection  to  your  taking  to  the  farm  [her  relation]  : 
the  pride  of  the  Hamiltons  surely  cannot  be  hurt  by 
settling  down  with  any  of  your  relations;  you  have 
surely  as  much  right  for  your  relations  to  come  into 
the  house  as  his  could  have." 

The  whole  affair  was  left  entirely  to  Emma's  man- 
agement. She  beset  Nelson's  solicitor,  Haslewood, 
with  letters,  begging  him  to  hurry  forward  the  ar- 
rangements, and  pressing  the  proprietor,  Mr.  Graves, 
to  oblige  Lord  Nelson's  "  anxiety."  Builders  and 
painters  were  in  the  house  immediately,  to  fit  it  for 
the  hero's  reception.  The  indispensable  Mrs.  Cado- 
gan,  now  in  charge  of  Nelson's  new  "  Peer's  robe," 
bustled  in  and  out,  covered  to  the  elbows  with  brick- 
dust.  Emma  set  to  work  with  a  will,  organising,  or- 
dering, preparing:  in  rough  housework  she  delighted. 
She  and  her  mother  set  up  pigstyes,  arranged  the  farm, 
stocked  with  fish  the  streamlet,  spanned  by  its  pretty 
Italian  bridge.  She  procured  the  boat  in  which  Nel- 


376  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

son  had  promised  she  should  row  him  on  that  minia- 
ture "  Nile,"  which  was  really  the  Wandle.  Day  after 
day  they  slaved — glad  to  be  quit  of  the  artificial  life 
in  Piccadilly — so  that  all  might  be  spick  and  span 
within  the  few  weeks  before  the  22nd  of  October,  the 
great  day  of  Nelson's  arrival.  The  whole  village  was 
eager  to  greet  him.  All  the  neighbours,  the  musical 
Goldsmids,  the  rustic  Halfhides,  the  literary  Perrys, 
the  Parratts,  the  Newtons,  the  Pattersons,  and  Lan- 
casters,  were  proud  of  the  newcomers.  Never  had 
Merton  experienced  such  excitement  since  one  of  the 
first  Parliaments  had  there  told  Henry  III.  that  the 
"  laws  of  England  "  could  not  be  changed.  There, 
too,  the  same  sovereign  had  concluded  his  peace  with 
the  Dauphin — a  good  augury  for  the  present  moment. 
Nelson  wanted  to  defray  all  the  annual  expenses,  but 
Sir  William  insisted  on  an  equal  division,  and  rigorous 
accounts  were  kept  which  still  remain. 

"  I  have  lived  with  our  dear  Emma  several  years," 
he  jests  in  a  letter  to  Nelson,  "  I  know  her  merit,  have 
a  great  opinion  of  the  head  and  heart  God  Almighty 
has  been  pleased  to  give  her,  but  a  seaman  alone  could 
have  given  a  fine  woman  full  power  to  choose  and  fit  up 
a  residence  for  him,  without  seeing  it  himself.  You 
are  in  luck,  for  on  my  conscience,  I  verily  believe  that 
a  place  so  suitable  to  your  views  could  not  have  been 
found  and  at  so  cheap  a  rate.  For,  if  you  stay  away 
three  days  longer,  I  do  not  think  you  can  have  any 
wish  but  you  will  find  it  compleated  here.  And  then 
the  bargain  was  fortunately  struck  three  days  before 
an  idea  of  peace  got  about.  Now,  every  estate  in  this 
neighbourhood  has  increased  in  value,  and  you  might 
get  a  thousand  pounds  for  your  bargain.  ...  I  never 
saw  so  many  conveniences  united  in  so  small  a  com- 
pass. You  have  nothing  but  to  come  and  to  enjoy  im- 
mediately. You  have  a  good  mile  of  pleasant  dry 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  377 

walk  around  your  farm.  It  would  make  you  laugh 
to  see  Emma  and  her  mother  fitting  up  pigstyes  and 
hencoops,  and  already  the  Canal  is  enlivened  with 
ducks,  and  the  cock  is  strutting  with  his  hen  about  the 
walks." 

Hamilton  still  retained  the  house  in  Piccadilly;  he 
was  now  living  above  his  means;  as  fast  as  money 
came  in,  the  "  housekeeping  draughts  "  drew  it  out. 
His  grand  entertainments  had  proved  a  bad  invest- 
ment. One  cannot  help  smiling  when  Nelson  tells 
Emma  during  her  Merton  preparations,  "  You  will 
make  us  rich  with  your  economies." 

When  Nelson  at  length  drove  down  from  London 
in  his  postchaise  to  this  suburban  land  of  promise,  it 
was  under  a  triumphal  arch  that  he  entered  it,  while 
at  night  the  village  was  illuminated.  Here  at  last, 
and  in  the  "  piping  "  times  of  peace,  the  strange  Tria 
juncta  in  uno  were  re-united ;  what  Nelson  had  longed 
for  had  come  to  pass.  Here,  too,  the  man  who  loved 
retirement  and  privacy  might  hope  to  enjoy  them; 
"  Oh !  how  I  hate  to  be  stared  at !  "  had  been  his 
ejaculation  but  two  months  before.  And,  above  all, 
here  he  hoped  to  have  Horatia  with  them  in  their 
walks,  and  to  see  her  christened. 

One  of  the  first  visitors  was  his  simple  old  father, 
who  maintained  a  friendly  correspondence  with  Emma. 
By  the  close  of  the  year  the  William  Nelsons  also 
stayed  at  Merton  to  rejoin  their  "  jewel "  of  a 
daughter. 

How  smoothly  and  pleasantly  things  proceeded  at 
first  may  be  gleaned  from  Emma's  further  new  letters 
to  Mrs.  William  Nelson  (then  staying  in  Stafford 
Street).  Emma  occasionally  drives  into  London  for 
"  shopping  parties  "  (shops  she  could  never  resist) 
with  Nelson's  sister-in-law. 

No  sooner  had  Nelson  returned,  than  they  all  went 


378  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

together  to  beg  a  half-holiday  for  Charlotte. — "  All 
girls  pale  before  Charlotte " ;  and  her  classmate,  a 
Miss  Fuss,  is  "  more  stupid  than  ever,  I  think." — > 
Charlotte  came  for  her  Exeat  and  fished  with  Sir 
William  in  the  "  Nile  " :  they  caught  three  large  pike. 
She  helped  him  and  Nelson  on  with  their  great-coats, 
"  so  now  I  have  nothing  to  do."  "  Dear  Horace," 
whose  birthday  Nelson  always  remembered,  must  soon 
come  also.  Nelson  was  proud  of  Charlotte  and  of  her 
"  improvement "  under  Emma's  directions.  Emma, 
too,  was  proud  of  her  role  as  governess.  Charlotte 
turned  over  the  prayers  for  the  great  little  man  in 
church.  They  were  all  regular  church-goers.  (Had 
not  Nelson  sincerely  written  to  her  earlier  that  they 
would  do  nothing  but  good  in  their  village,  and  set 
"  an  example  of  godly  life  "?)  Nelson  and  Sir  Will- 
iam were  the  "greatest  friends  in  the  world."  (Did 
he  ever,  one  wonders,  call  him  "my  uncle"?)  The 
"  share-and-share  alike "  arrangement  answered  ad- 
mirably— "  it  comes  easy  to  booth  partys."  They 
none  of  them  cared  to  visit  much,  though  all  were  most 
kind  in  inviting  them.  "  Our  next  door  neighbours, 
Mr.  Halfhide  and  his  family,  wou'd  give  us  half  of 
all  they  have,  very  pleasant  people,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Newton  allso;  but  I  like  Mrs.  Halfhide  very  much  in- 
deed. She  sent  Charlotte  grapes."  As  for  Nelson, 
he  was  "  very  happy  " : — "  Indeed  we  all  make  it  our 
constant  business  to  make  him  happy.  He  is  better 
now,  but  not  well  yet."  "  He  has  frequent  sick- 
ness, and  is  Low,  and  he  throws  himself  on  the 
sofa  tired  and  says,  '  I  am  worn  out.' '  She  hop«s 
"  we  shall  get  him  up  " — a  phrase  reminiscent  of  the 
laundry. 

Hamilton  himself  averred  to  Greville  that  he  too  was 
quite  satisfied.  The  early  hours  and  fresh  air  agreed 
with  him:  he  could  run  into  town  easily  for  his  hob- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  379 

bies;  he   was  cataloguing  his  books;  he  still  hoped 
against  hope  that  Addington  would  help  him. 

Eden  at  length  without  a  serpent — at  least  so  Nel- 
son and  Emma  imagined.  Merton  idyllicised  them. 
"Dear,  dear  Merton!"  If  only  baby  Horatia  could 
be  there  (and  soon  she  was)  it  would  be  perfect.  As 
she  was  to  express  it  in  the  last  letter  she  could  ever 
forward  to  him,  and  which  he  was  never  able  to  read 
— "  Paradise  Merton;  for  when  you  are  there  it  will  be 
paradise." 


CHAPTER  XII 

EXIT  "  NESTOR  " 

January,  1802 — May,  1803 

THE  winding  high-road  on  the  right  of  Wimble- 
don towards  Epsom  leads  to  what  once  was 
the  Merton  that  Nelson  and  Emma  loved.  A 
sordid  modern  street  is  now  its  main  approach,  but 
there  are  still  traces  of  the  quaint  old  inns  and  houses 
that  jutted  in  and  out  of  lanes  and  hedgerows.  The 
house  that  many  a  pilgrim  thinks  a  piece  of  the  old 
structure  may  well  be  the  remains  of  Mr.  Halfhide's 
or  Mr.  Newton's.  Through  a  side  road  is  found  the 
sole  relic  of  Merton  Place  that  has  braved  the  ravages 
of  time  and  steam.  Opposite  a  small  railway  station, 
and  near  a  timber-yard,  stands  the  ruin  of  an  ivied  and 
castellated  gate,  through  which  the  stream  meanders 
on  which  Emma  would  row  her  hero,  around  which 
the  small  Horatia  played,  in  which  Charlotte  and 
Horatio  fished;  while  on  its  banks  Nelson  planted  a 
mulberry-tree  that  Emma  fondly  vaunted  would  rival 
Shakespeare's.  Goldsmid's  Georgian  house  still 
stands;  but  Merton  Place  has  vanished  into  the  vista 
of  crumbled  yet  unforgotten  things.  The  ancient 
church,  however,  though  enlarged  and  well  restored, 
is  much  the  same.  Its  churchyard  still  shows  familiar 
names — Thomas  Bowen,  and  the  Smiths  who  were  to 
be  poor  Emma's  last  befrienders.  In  the  south  aisle 
is  a  picture  attributed  to  Luca  Giordano  whose  name 

380 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  381 

must  have  recalled  Naples  to  Hamilton.  The  very 
bench  on  which  they  sat  is  still  kept  in  the  vestry.  The 
hatchment  with  Nelson's  bearings,  which  Emma  pre- 
sented after  Trafalgar,  still  hangs  in  the  nave.  The 
fine  old  house — "  Church  House  " — which  they  must 
have  passed  so  often,  still  fronts  the  church  porch. 
Even  when  they  were  there,  the  famous  Priory  where 
the  great  Becket  was  educated,  and  round  which  Mer- 
ton's  feudal  memories  clustered,  had  been  replaced  by 
calico  factories.  How  eagerly  must  Nelson  have 
awaited  a  glimpse  even  of  these,  when  he  drove  up 
along  the  Portsmouth  road  for  his  last  brief  sojourn  in 
the  home  of  his  heart;  how  wistfully  must  he  have 
passed  them,  when  the  door  clicked  to,  and  off  he 
rattled  to  eternity! 

The  two  snakes  in  the  grass  of  "  Paradise  "  Merton 
were  lavishness  and,  as  it  would  seem,  its  contrast, 
Greville. 

Nelson's  liberality  was  as  unbounded  as  abused; 
even  his  skin-flint  brother  William  begged  him  to  re- 
frain in  his  own  favour.  Applications  rained  from 
all  quarters.  A  Yorkshireman  wrote  and  said  he 
would  be  pleased  to  receive  £300.  "  Are  these  peo- 
ple mad  ?  "  sighed  the  hero,  "  or  do  they  take  me  quite 
for  a  fool?"  He  was  always  bestowing  handsome 
presents,  while  for  his  many  regular  benefactions,  he 
had  sometimes  to  draw  on  Davison.  And  Emma's 
open-handedness  was  not  far  behindhand.  She  scat- 
tered broadcast  to  her  relations,  to  the  poor,  deserv- 
ing or  the  reverse.  The  Connors  soon  began  to  prey 
on  her  anticipated  means.  Money  burned  a  hole  in 
her  pocket,  and  she  never  stopped  to  think  of  the 
future.  Before  the  year  closed  she  left  a  note  from 
Coutts  for  her  husband  on  her  toilet-table  to  the  ef- 
fect that  her  ladyship's  balance  was  now  twelve  shil- 


382  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

lings.  Greville  must  have  shuddered  when  his  uncle 
forwarded  it  to  him.  "  Sensibility  "  was  always  over- 
drawing its  banking  account,  and  "  Nature  "  continu- 
ally forestalling  expectations.  Added  to  largesse  was 
some  extravagance,  but  not  to  the  degree  that  has 
often  been  put  forward :  it  was  by  no  means  enor- 
mous, and  in  these  days  might  be  considered  normal 
for  her  husband's  position.  Emma  was  in  a  holiday 
mood.  Hamilton  would  not  brace  himself  to  the  real 
retrenchment  of  giving  up  the  London  house,  nor 
would  Emma  forego  superfluities.  Merton,  though 
with  intervals  of  quiet,  became  open  house.  Nelson's 
sisters,  with  their  families — the  Boltons  with  six,  the 
Matchams  with  eight,  his  brother,  still  hunting  for 
preferment,  with  his  "  precious  "  Charlotte,  and  little 
Horatio,  the  heir;  old  naval  friends,  including  "poor 
little  fatherless  Fady,"  whom,  it  will  be  remembered, 
Emma  tended  in  1798.  Emma's  kindred,  Italian  sing- 
ers, the  theatrical  and  musical  Mrs.  Lind,  Mrs.  Billing- 
ton,  and  Mrs.  Denis;  "  Old  Q."  from  Richmond,  Wol- 
cot  the  satirist,  Hayley  from  Felpham,  Dr.  Fisher  from 
Doctors'  Commons;  Admiralty  big-wigs,  disgusted  of- 
ficials, noisy  journalists,  foreign  bearers  of  Nelson's 
decorations,  the  Abbe  Campbell,  Prince  Castelcicala 
the  Neapolitan  ambassador,  the  Marquis  Schinato, 
Maria  Carolina's  own  son,  Prince  Leopold — all  were 
indiscriminately  welcomed.  It  was  a  menagerie.  The 
Tysons,  too,  were  now  at  Woolwich,  and  to  them, 
as  Nelson's  attached  adherents,  Emma  was  all  atten- 
tion. She  chaperoned  their  young  people  to  balls. 
She  healed  their  conjugal  differences :  Mrs.  Tyson  was 
never  so  happy  as  at  Merton,  when  her  dear  husband 
was  restored  to  her,  and  she  could  at  last  "  take  the 
sacrament  with  a  composed  mind"  and  "  bless 
dear  Lady  Hamilton."  Benevolence,  hospitality,  and 
racket  each  mingled  in  the  miscellany,  and  all  of  them 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  383 

tended  to  outrun  the  constable.  The  cellar  was  stocked 
with  wine,  and  perhaps  included  some  of  those  large 
gifts  from  foreign  potentates  to  which  a  reference  is 
made  in  the  Life  of  the  Reverend  Dr.  Scott.  How- 
ever that  may  be,  when  Emma's  affairs  were  liquidated 
seven  years  later,  the  valuation  of  the  cellar  amounted 
to  no  less  than  two  thousand  pounds. 

Nelson,  who  had  protested  against  large  gatherings, 
affected  to  enjoy  Liberty  Hall ;  all  that  his  Emma  com- 
manded was  exemplary.  And,  indeed,  as  appears  from 
the  accounts  preserved  in  the  Morrison  autographs,  the 
profusion  was  far  greater  in  London,  allowing  for  the 
expenditure  of  both  houses.  The  joint  weekly  ex- 
penses at  Merton  were  often  no  higher  than  some  £30. 
Hamilton,  however,  whose  own  extravagance  con- 
tributed, though  he  justified  it  by  hopes  from  Adding- 
ton,  soon  began  to  murmur.  Greville,  the  monitor, 
was  at  his  elbow.  The  heir's  prospects  were  being 
imperilled  by  that  very  Emma  whose  thrift  he  had 
first  inculcated  and  extolled;  it  was  too  bad;  he  must 
protect  his  old  uncle,  who  protested  to  him  that  only 
fear  of  an  "  explosion  "  which  might  destroy  his  best 
friend's  comfort  stopped  his  rebellion  against  the 
"  nonsense  "  that  invaded  his  quiet.  Before  the  year 
was  out  he  even  meditated  an  amicable  separation.  He 
did  not  complain ;  he  still  loved  her.  But  he  could  not 
but  perceive  that  her  whole  time  and  attention  were 
bestowed  on  Nelson  and  "  his  interest."  Therefore 
(and  here  Greville's  voice  appears  to  recur),  after  his 
hard  fag  at  Naples,  at  his  waning  age,  and  under  the 
circumstances,  a  wise  and  well-concerted  separation 
might  be  preferable  to  "  nonsense  "  and  silly  alterca- 
tions. He  had  not  long  to  live,  and  "  every  moment 
was  precious  "  to  him.  He  only  wanted  to  be  left 
alone  at  Staines,  or  Christie's,  the  Tuesday  Club,  the 
Literary  Society,  and  the  British  Museum.  "  Nestor  " 


384  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

continued  a  philosopher.  They  might  still  get  on  well 
enough  apart,  or  together,  if  Emma  would  but  consult 
the  comfort  of  a  worn-out  diplomatist  and  virtuoso: 
"  I  am  arrived  at  the  age  when  some  repose  is  really 
necessary,  and  I  promised  myself  a  quiet  home,  and 
although  I  was  sensible,  and  I  said  so  when  I  married, 
that  I  should  be  superannuated  when  my  wife  would  be 
in  her  full  beauty  and  vigour  of  youth ;  that  time  is  ar- 
rived, and  we  must  make  the  best  of  it  for  the  comfort 
of  both  parties."  He  "  well  knew  "  the  "  purity  of 
Lord  Nelson's  friendship "  for  them  both.  Nelson 
was  their  best  friend,  and  it  would  pain  him  deeply  to 
disturb  his  life  or  hurt  his  feelings.  "  There  is  no 
time  for  nonsense  or  trifling.  I  know  and  admire  your 
talents  and  many  excellent  qualities,  but  I  am  not 
blind  to  your  defects,  and  confess  having  many 
myself;  therefore,  let  us  bear  and  forbear,  for  God's 
sake." 

The  voice  of  this  last  appeal  is  that  of  the  kindly  old 
epicurean,  and  not  of  the  calculating  cynic.  Emma, 
erring  Emma,  responded  to  it,  and  peace  was  restored 
for  the  few  months  remaining.  So  far,  our  entire 
sympathy  must  be  with  the  worried  and  injured  Ham- 
ilton. But  ere  this  his  necessities,  and  the  cunning  use 
to  which  his  nephew  seems  to  have  put  them,  had 
prompted  a  plan  which  must  lower  him  in  our  estima- 
tion. 

As  a  rule,  when  Greville  was  asked  (and  he  often 
was)  to  Merton,  he  politely  excused  himself.  So 
anxious  was  Sir  William  for  his  presence  that  he  actu- 
ally assured  him  of  Nelson's  "  love,"  whereas  Nelson, 
as  we  know,  misliked  the  cold-blooded  caster-off  of  his 
paragon.  Greville,  however,  perpetually  sent  his 
warmest  messages  to  the  whole  party,  including  his  old 
acquaintance  Mrs.  Cadogan.  With  Greville,  by  hook 
or  crook,  a  strange  scheme  was  now  to  be  concocted. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  385 

Failing  the  princely  aid  of  the  previous  spring,  i  bar- 
gain after  his  own  heart  was  being  revived. 

It  will  be  recollected  that  Beckford,  wearied  of  soli- 
tary magnificence,  had  offered  Sir  William  a  large  an- 
nuity if  he  could  induce  royalty  to  grant  a  peerage  to 
Hamilton  with  a  reversion  to  himself.  The  Marquis  of 
Douglas,  heir  of  the  ninth  Duke  of  Hamilton  and  head 
of  the  clan,  had  shown  symptoms  of  attachment  to 
Euphemia,  Beckford's  daughter,  whom  in  the  end  he 
married.  If  this  attachment  could  be  played  upon  for 
the  purpose  by  the  wary  diplomatist,  Beckford's  object 
and  Hamilton's  might  be  secured.  For  such  a  plum 
Beckford  now  proposed  a  life  annuity  of  £2000  that  his 
kinsman  might  maintain  the  dignity  of  the  peerage, 
and  after  his  death  one  of  £500  to  Emma ;  while,  as  a 
bribe  to  ministers,  Beckford's  "  two  sure  seats  "  were 
to  be  at  their  disposal. 

Hamilton  opened  his  mind  the  more  freely  to  his 
"  dear  Marquis  "  on  this  "  delicate  "  business  since 
there  existed  a  "  very  remarkable  sympathy  between 
them."  Beckford  had  actually  sent  his  West  India 
agent  to  Merton  for  the  management  of  this  affair. 
Sir  William  ridiculed  the  mere  notion  of  himself  covet- 
ing such  empty  honours.  He  might,  however,  be  use- 
ful to  his  friends,  and  no  eclat  need  attend  the  transac- 
tion. Beckford  had  "  strong  claims  on  Government." 
An  idea  had  struck  Hamilton  that  the  Marquis  might 
one  day  be  intimately  connected  with  the  Fonthill  fam- 
ily. He  did  not  demand  definite  answers;  he  was 
"  sensible  of  its  being  a  delicate  point,"  yet  he  could  not 
help  flattering  himself  that  "  the  good  Duke  of  H.  and 
myself  would  readily  undertake  anything  for  Emma's 
and  my  advantage,  provided  it  could  be  done  sans  vous 
compromettre  trop."  The  Marquis  promptly  answered 
his  kinsman's  "  very  kind  and  confidential  letter  from 
Merton  "  by  a  gentle  refusal.  He  found  town  very 


386  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

empty,  but  a  select  few,  his  books,  papers,  and  pic- 
tures, contented  him.  As  to  the  matter  in  hand,  it  was, 
he  feared,  quite  impracticable.  With  regard  to  his 
own  inclinations,  "any  symptoms  of  any  sort. 'which 
might  have  '  appeared  in  any  part  of  his  family  "  were 
unknown  to  and  unencouraged  by  him.  Hamilton 
must  convey  every  kind  expression  to  Lord  Nelson  and 
Lady  Hamilton;  to  himself  he  need  not  name  his  re- 
gard, and  he  was  and  ever  should  be  his  affectionate 
friend. 

Poor  "  Nestor  " !  To  this  pass  have  art  and  am- 
bassadorship brought  him.  And,  alas,  poor  Emma, 
that  she,  too,  should  enlist  her  Nelson  in  such  a 
service ! 

This  disappointment  happened  in  the  summer,  but  in 
the  spring  an  event  occurred  which  cast  real  gloom  over 
the  Merton  household.  In  April  died,  at  his  favourite 
Bath,  the  well-loved  father,  that  kindly,  upright  Eng- 
lish clergyman,  whom  his  great  son  fondly  cherished, 
and  whom  he  had  actually  wished  to  be  a  permanent 
inmate  of  the  household.  Nelson's  health  immediately 
grew  worse.  His  first  care,  however,  was  for  others, 
for  his  brother  and  sisters  and  his  father's  old  man- 
servant. Condolences  poured  in  upon  him;  nor  was 
Emma  the  least  grief -stricken,  for  this  truly  Christian 
soul  had  treated  her  with  chivalrous  charity,  had  wholly 
refrained  from  cruel  speculations,  and  had  rather 
sought  to  raise  the  thoughts  of  this  strange  incomer 
into  Horatio's  life.  While  the  brother  flattered  for 
gain,  while  every  application  for  Nelson's  favour  came 
through  her,  she  had  known  and  felt  that  Nelson's 
father,  who  refused  to  realise  the  truth,  was  wholly 
good  as  well  as  godly.  She  was  in  London  at  the 
time,  and  what  she  wrote  has  not  survived.  Sir  Will- 
iam's letter  has.  It  is  characteristic  of  his  "  philos- 
ophy " — that  of  "  the  best  of  all  possible  worlds  " : — 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  387 

PICCADILLY,  April  28,  1802. 

".  .  .  Emma  says  I  must  write  a  letter  to  you  of 
condolence  for  the  heavy  loss  your  lordship  has  suf- 
fered. When  persons  in  the  prime  of  life  are  carried 
off  by  accident  or  sickness — or  what  is,  I  believe, 
oftener  the  case,  by  the  ignorance  and  mistakes  of  the 
physicians — then,  indeed,  there  is  reason  to  lament. 
But,  as  in  the  case  of  your  good  father,  the  lamp  was 
suffered  to  burn  out  fairly,  and  that  his  sufferings  were 
not  great;  and  that  by  his  son's  glorious  and  unparal- 
leled successes,  he  saw  his  family  ennobled,  and  with 
the  probability  in  time  of  its  being  amply  rewarded, 
as  it  ought  to  have  been  long  ago — his  mind  could  not 
be  troubled,  in  his  latter  moments,  on  account  of  the 
family  he  left  behind  him.  And  as  to  his  own  peace 
of  mind  at  the  moment  of  his  dissolution,  there  can  be 
no  doubt,  among  those  who  ever  had  the  honour  of  his 
acquaintance.  .  .  ." 

Before  the  blow,  however,  had  fallen  that  sad- 
dened Merton,  a  dinner  and  musical  party  was  given 
at  which  Braham,  who  was  afterwards  to  sing,  amid 
furore,  the  "  Death  of  Nelson,"  performed. 

Nelson  had  much  offended  a  society  that  longed  to 
lionise  him  by  sequestering  himself  from  it  altogether. 
Except  at  the  assemblies  of  the  Hamiltons'  friends,  he 
seldom  figured  at  all,  and  the  outraged  Lady  Nelson's 
advocates  added  this  to  their  weightier  reproaches 
against  the  "  horrid "  woman  at  Merton.  He  pre- 
ferred even  Bohemian  routs  to  the  solemnities  of 
Downing  Street  or  the  frivolities  of  Mayfair,  though 
he  disliked  all  gatherings  but  those  of  intimate  friends. 

Among  the  guests  of  this  evening  was  their  old  ac- 
quaintance Lord  Minto,  formerly  of  Vienna.  He  was 
disgusted  at  the  interior  with  its  trophies  and  por- 
traits, but,  above  all,  with  Emma  herself.  Doubtless 

Memoirs — Vol.  14 — 13 


388  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

the  sight  of  him  put  her  in  her  most  self-assertive  vein. 
The  reader  must  form  his  own  judgment;  but  at  any 
rate  the  censor,  in  this  record,  seems  mistaken  in  sup- 
posing that  the  Hamiltons  were  "  living  on  "  Nelson. 
The  Merton  accounts  in  the  Morrison  Collection  prove 
that  all  expenses  were  scrupulously  shared.  And  when 
he  brands  Emma's  effusiveness  to  Nelson  as  flattery, 
what  would  he  have  said  had  he  been  able,  as  we  are, 
to  read  Nelson's  own  outpourings  to  Emma?  If  hers 
was  "  flattery,"  then  still  more  was  his.  But  diplomats 
are  not  psychologists,  nor  have  they  always  insight  into 
such  emotional  temperaments. 

".  .  .  The  whole  establishment  and  way  of  life  is 
such  as  to  make  me  angry  as  well  as  melancholy;  but  I 
cannot  alter  it.  I  do  not  think  myself  obliged  or  at 
liberty  to  quarrel  with  him  for  his  weakness,  though 
nothing  shall  ever  induce  me  to  give  the  smallest 
countenance  to  Lady  Hamilton.  She  looks  eventually 
to  the  chance  of  marriage.  ...  In  the  meanwhile,  she, 
Sir  William,  and  the  whole  set  of  them  are  living  with 
him  at  his  expense.  She  is  in  high  looks,  but  more 
immense  than  ever.  She  goes  on  cramming  Nelson 
with  trowelfuls  of  flattery,  which  he  goes  on  taking  as 
quietly  as  a  child  does  pap.  The  love  she  makes  to 
him  is  not  only  ridiculous,  but  disgusting.  Not  only 
the  rooms,  but  the  whole  house,  staircase  and  all,  are 
covered  with  nothing  but  pictures  of  her  and  him,  of  all 
sizes  and  sorts,  and  representations  of  his  naval  actions, 
coats  of  arms,  pieces  of  plate  in  his  honour,  the  flag- 
staff of  LJ  Orient,  etc.,  an  excess  of  vanity  which  coun- 
teracts its  own  purpose.  If  it  was  Lady  H.'s  house, 
there  might  be  a  pretence  for  it.  To  make  his  own 
a  mere  looking-glass  to  view  himself  all  day  is  bad 
taste.  Braham,  the  celebrated  Jew  singer,  performed 
with  Lady  H.  She  is  horrid,  but  he  entertained  me 
in  spite  of  her.  Lord  Nelson  explained  to  me  a  little 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  389 

the  sort  of  blame  imputed  to  Sir  Hyde  Parker  for  Co- 
penhagen. .  .  ." 

It  was  certainly  a  queer  household  for  seemly  self- 
importance  to  enter.  Without  question,  there  was 
warrant  for  worse  than  such  superficial  strictures  as 
those  in  which  Elliot  here  indulged.  Emma  had  deteri- 
orated, and  she  had  never  fitted  the  formalities  of 
English  drawing-rooms.  Average  folk,  as  will  be 
seen  hereafter,  she  charmed.  But  the  guest,  though 
naturally  affronted,  was  likely  to  be  prejudiced. 
Emma  was  wholly  offensive  to  him,  and  the  patronising 
air  of  one  whom  Braham's  pathos  "  entertained  "  may, 
after  its  own  manner,  have  been  irritating  also.  The 
ambassador  was  an  official  type  of  good  taste,  and  of 
Emma,  it  must  be  thought,  there  was  always  overmuch 
in  a  room.  His  looks  on  this  occasion  must  have  been 
vinegar,  and  can  have  ill  accorded  with  that  natural 
sweetness  of  expression  which,  by  consent  of  friend 
and  foe  alike,  distinguished  Emma  from  first  to  last. 
Officialism  had  set  itself  against  Nelson  like  a  flint, 
and,  likely  enough,  his  devotee  was  supercilious  to  her 
enemy,  whom  probably  she  mimicked  after  he  had 
gone,  as  she  certainly  used  to  mimic  Nelson's  fussy 
brother.  Still,  however  it  may  be  deplored,  the  stub- 
born fact  remains  that  Britain's  deliverer  loved  this 
woman's  reality,  and  misliked  the  spirit  of  officialism; 
that  against  him  were  arrayed  the  pettiest  forces  at 
home  and  the  mightiest  abroad.  Nelson  endures  in 
history,  and  with  him  Emma,  while  patterns  of  the 
primmest  diplomacy  have  long  faded  into  the  vague- 
ness of  distance.  To  appraise  Emma,  not  defence  but 
understanding  is  requisite.  Antipathy,  like  flattery, 
is  the  worst  critic;  and  pedantic  antipathy  is  perhaps 
its  worst  form.  Burleigh  would  have  made  a  bad 
judge  of  the  Queen  of  Scots,  and  Cicero  of  Cleopatra. 

Emma's  "  immensity  "  had  been  for  some  time  in 


390  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

evidence,  and  was  grossened  in  the  caricatures.  She 
affected  to  think  that  fatness  became  her  fine  stature 
and  large  proportions.  It  was  due,  partly,  to  the  por- 
ter which  she  drank  for  the  sake  of  her  voice,  and 
which,  as  appears  in  the  earlier  letters  of  the  Morrison 
Collection,  had  been  forwarded  by  Greville  to  his  uncle 
long  before  Emma  had  entered  his  life  at  Naples. 

In  the  June  of  this  year,  too,  died  Admiral  Sir  John 
Willet-Payne,  who,  after  sitting  in  Parliament,  had  for 
some  time  been  treasurer  of  Greenwich  Hospital.  Nel- 
son must  have  known  him,  and  curiosity  is  aroused 
as  to  whether  Emma  ever  saw  her  first  tempter  again, 
and  what  he  thought  of  her  marvellous  career. 

And  in  November  was  to  flicker  out  that  sensitive 
genius  and  singular  being  to  whom  Emma  had  been  so 
beholden  in  her  girlhood.  Romney,  wasting  with  mel- 
ancholy, had  resought  the  refuge  of  the  Kendal  roof- 
tree  and  the  ministering  wife  so  long  neglected.  In 
one  of  his  conversations  with  Hayley,  he  told  him  that 
he  had  always  studied  "  Sensibility  "  by  observing  the 
fibrous  lines  around  the  mouth.  It  was  Emma's  mouth 
that  had  been  a  revelation  to  him.  One  cannot  help 
wishing  that  some  final  correspondence  between  them 
may  one  day  be  discovered. 

For  the  summer,  Hamilton  had  planned  a  driving 
tour  to  the  Mil  ford  property,  where  the  nephew  and 
steward  wished  to  show  his  uncle  the  best  work  of  his 
life — a  flourishing  settlement  of  labourers.  Emma 
and  Nelson  accompanied  him  on  the  Welsh  trip,  which 
soon  turned  into  a  fresh  triumphal  progress  for  the 
hero  of  the  Nile  and  of  Copenhagen,  who  shamed  the 
Government  by  remaining  a  Vice-Admiral.  Greville's 
presence  may  be  assumed.  Certainly  he  was  at  Mil- 
ford.  Before  they  started,  William  Nelson,  who  had 
just  returned  from  bowing  to  "  Billy  "  Pitt  at  Cam- 
bridge, his  wife  and  their  young  Horatio,  were  added 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  391 

to  the  group  of  travellers.  It  is  strange  on  this  occa- 
sion to  find  the  triple  alliance  of  Nelson  and  the  Ham- 
iltons  reinforced  by  Greville,  before  whom,  Nelson 
had  told  Emma,  conversation  must  be  restrained;  in 
his  official  presence  they  could  not  speak  freely  "  of 
kings  and  beggars."  This  journey,  like  its  continental 
predecessor,  was  certainly  not  calculated  to  allay  irrita- 
tion in  high  places. 

They  started  on  the  Qth  of  July  with  Box  Hill  once 
more — "  a  pretty  place,  and  we  are  all  very  happy." 
They  went  on  to  Oxford,  where  Nelson  received  the 
freedom  of  the  city  in  a  fine  box  to  the  music  of  finer 
orations,  and  where  the  Matchams  joined  the  caravan. 
It  was  here  that  on  a  visit  to  Blenheim  the  Marlbor- 
oughs  infuriated  Emma  by  declining  to  receive  her. 
She  was  determined  to  appeal,  for  herself  and  her  hero, 
to  the  Caesar  of  the  people.  She  performed  her  music 
both  for  the  select  and  the  vulgar.  Everywhere  Emma 
beat  the  big  drum  of  popular  enthusiasm.  The  long 
highroads,  the  swarming  streets,  the  eager  villages 
from  Burford  to  Gloucester,  from  Gloucester  to  Ross, 
from  Ross  to  Monmouth,  Caermarthen  and  Milford, 
from  Milford  to  Swansea,  from  Swansea  to  Cardiff, 
were  thronged  with  stentorian  admirers.  On  the  re- 
turn journey,  from  Cardiff  to  Newport  and  Chepstow, 
and  so  to  Monmouth  again,  on  to  Hereford,  Leomin- 
ster,  Tenbury,  Worcester,  Birmingham,  Warwick, 
Coventry,  Dunstable,  Watford,  and  Brentford,  all 
turned  out  like  one  man  to  cheer  the  postilioned  car- 
riages. Bells  were  rung,  factories  and  theatres  vis- 
ited, addresses  read,  speeches  made,  the  National 
Anthem  and  "  Rule  Britannia  "  sung  by  the  shouting 
crowds.  Wherever  they  went,  the  neighbouring  mag- 
nates loaded  Nelson  and  his  friends  with  invitations, 
and  Payne-Knight  implored  Emma  for  a  visit.  And 
everywhere  this  exuberant  daughter  of  democracy  led 


392 

and  swelled  the  chorus.  Her  Nelson  should  "  be  first." 
"  Hip,  hip,  hip!  "  "  God  Save  the  King!  "  "  Long 
live  Nelson,  Britain's  Pride !  " 


"Join  we  great  Nelson's  name 
First  on  the  roll  of  fame, 

Him  let  us  sing; 
Spread  we  his  praise  around, 
Honour  of  British  ground, 
Who  made  Nile's  shores  resounds 

God  save  the  King ! " 


It  was  Naples  over  again,  and  Emma  was  in  her 
true  element.  Let  the  whole  official  brotherhood  look 
to  themselves  and  dare  their  worst.  They  were  routed 
now.  The  people  were  on  the  side  of  those  who  had 
toiled  hard,  of  those  who  had  really  borne  the  brunt, 
who  had  risked  their  lives  to  save  their  homes  from  the 
bogey  of  Europe.  "  Hip,  hip,  hip,  in  excelsisl "  No 
wonder  that,  when  all  was  over  and,  hoarse  but  happy, 
Emma  reposed  at  Merton  once  more,  awaiting  a  fresh 
but  private  jubilation  on  Nelson's  approaching  birth- 
day, she  took  up  her  pen  with  triumph : — 

"  We  have  had  a  most  charming  Tour  which  will 
Burst  some  of  THEM.  So  let  all  the  enimies  of  the 
GREATEST  man  alive  [perish?]  !  And  bless  his 
friends."  In  this  same  letter  her  native  goodness  of 
heart  breaks  out  with  equal  vehemence  about  the  death 
of  "  poor  Dod,"  one  of  Nelson's  countless  proteges : 
"  Anything  that  we  can  do  to  assist  the  poor  widow 
we  will."  How  this  "we  "  reminds  us  of  the  "  we  " 
before  Sir  William  married  her,  which  had  so  an- 
noyed Legge'  And  the  sensation  of  this  progress  still 
tingled  in  the  air.  In  October  Lord  Lansdowne 
begged  in  vain  for  a  visit,  should  they  stay  again  at 
Fonthill.  While  Banks  sympathised  with  Greville's 
sigh  of  relief,  Ball  told  Emma  of  his  interest,  smiled 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  393 

over  her  huzzaings,  and  recalled  her  kindness  to  the 
Maltese  Deputies.  Her  enthusiasm  was  still  con- 
tagious. 

But  this  trip  did  not  close  without  a  conjugal  breeze 
easily  raised  and  easily  calmed. 

Emma  insisted  on  recruiting  her  health  by  her  old 
remedy  of  sea-baths,  probably  at  Swansea;  Hamilton, 
however,  longed  to  get  home.  He  was  exhausted,  and 
she  was  petulant,  as  the  following  little  passage  at  arms 
bears  witness : — 

"  As  I  see  it  is  pain  to  you  to  remain  here,  let  me 
beg  of  you  to  fix  your  time  for  going.  Weather  I  dye 
in  Piccadilly  or  any  other  spot  in  England,  'tis  the  same 
to  me;  but  I  remember  the  time  when  you  wished  for 
tranquillity,  but  now  all  visiting  and  bustle  is  your 
liking.  However,  I  will  do  what  you  please,  being  ever 
your  affectionate  and  obedient  E.  H."  On  the  back  of 
it  Sir  William  wrote  : — 

"  I  neither  love  bustle  nor  great  company,  but  I  like 
some  employment  and  diversion.  ...  I  am  in  no 
hurry,  and  am  exceedingly  glad  to  give  every  satisfac- 
tion to  our  best  friend,  our  dear  Lord  Nelson.  Sea- 
bathing is  usefull  to  your  health;  I  see  it  is,  and  wish 
you  to  continue  a  little  longer ;  but  I  must  confess  that 
I  regret,  whilst  the  season  is  favourable,  that  I  cannot 
enjoy  my  favourite  amusement  of  quiet  fishing.  I  care 
not  a  pin  for  the  great  wrorld,  and  am  attached  to  no 
one  as  much  as  you."  On  its  fly-leaf  Emma  added, 
"  I  go,  when  you  tell  me  the  coach  is  ready,"  to  which 
Hamilton  retorted :  "  This  is  not  a  fair  answer  to  a  fair 
confession  of  mine."  So  ended  the  last  of  their  tiny 
quarrels.  Nestor  w^as  reconciled  to  Penelope. 

The  sands  of  his  life  were  fast  running  down,  and 
he  was  soon  to  have  that  euthanasia  which  he  had 
praised  to  Nelson.  Emma's  heart  smote  her  as  she 
beheld  his  fading  powers.  He  suffered  no  pain,  but  he 


394  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

gradually  sank.  He  was  removed  to  Piccadilly,  and 
by  the  March  of  1803  it  was  clear  that  his  end  was  in 
sight.  Both  Emma  and  Nelson  were  constant  in  their 
attendance  and  attention.  It  had  been  Nelson  who,  in 
his  passionate  outpouring,  occasionally  speculated  on 
"  my  uncle's  "  demise;  but  Emma,  apart  from  grati- 
tude and  a  sense  of  the  wrong  that  she  had  done  him, 
well  knew  that  his  death  would  remove  a  real  friend 
and  a  loving  counsellor.  All  the  past  rose  up  vividly, 
from  the  days  of  the  selfishness  of  Greville,  who  was 
now  again  half-hardening  himself  against  her,  to 
those  of  the  loving  husband  who  had  trusted  and 
shielded  her.  Some  feeling  of  sorrow,  compunction, 
and  forlornness  possessed  her.  However  grievously 
she  had  erred,  she  did  her  duty  at  the  last.  And  at  the 
last  the  old  man's  mind  had  wandered. 

On  April  6,  1803,  at  eleven  o'clock,  Nelson  wrote 
this  hurried  note  to  Davison : — 

"  Our  dear  Sir  William  died  at  10  minutes  past  Ten 
this  morning  in  Lady  Hamilton's  and  my  arms  without 
a  sigh  or  a  struggle.  Poor  Lady  H.  is  as  you  may 
expect  desolate.  I  hope  she  will  be  left  properly,  but  I 
doubt." 

Greville  had  once  more  succeeded. 

Nelson  would  not  so  have  written  if  Emma  had  not 
so  felt.  His  feelings  were  coloured  by  hers.  Among 
Nelson's  papers  remains  one  in  Emma's  handwriting 
intended  for  no  eye  but  his,  and  to  which  no  hypocrisy 
can  be  imputed : — 

"April  6. — Unhappy  day  for  the  forlorn  Emma. 
Ten  minutes  past  ten  dear  blessed  Sir  William  left 
me." 

In  all  her  private  answers  to  condolence  the  refrain 
is  the  same — "  What  a  man,  what  a  husband."  It  can 
scarcely  be  called  falsetto.  Not  until  she  had  lost  him 
did  she  realise  all  that  he  had  been  to  her,  and  how  she 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  395 

had  wronged  him.  Strange  as  it  may  sound,  she  was 
stricken  indeed. 

And  yet  her  attitudinising  heart  soon  alternated  be- 
tween different  moods.  She  cut  off  her  flowing  locks 
and  wore  them  a  la  Titus  in  the  fashionable  mode  of 
mourning.  When  Madame  Le  Brun  met  her  a  few 
months  afterwards,  she  sat  down  and  sang  a  snatch 
at  the  piano.  On  a  later  occasion  the  French  paintress 
noticed  that  she  had  put  a  rose  in  her  hair,  and  in- 
quiring the  reason,  was  told,  "  I  have  just  received  a 
letter  from  Lord  Nelson."  Later  on,  she  consented  to 
oblige  Madame  Le  Brun  by  privately  showing  before 
a  few  of  the  noblesse  emigrce  some  of  her  "  Atti- 
tudes," which  she  had  never  been  willing  to  display  in 
London. 

"  On  the  day  appointed,"  notes  the  artist  in  her 
chronicle,  "  I  placed  in  the  middle  of  my  drawing- 
room  a  very  large  frame,  with  a  screen  on  either  side 
of  it.  I  had  a  strong  lime-light  prepared  and  disposed, 
so  that  it  could  not  be  seen,  but  which  would  light  up 
Lady  Hamilton  as  though  she  were  a  picture.  .  .  .  She 
assumed  various  attitudes  in  this  frame  in  a  way  truly 
admirable.  She  had  brought  a  little  girl  with  her, 
who  might  have  been  seven  or  eight  years  old,  and  who 
resembled  her  strikingly.  One  group  they  made  to- 
gether reminded  me  of  Poussin's  '  Rape  of  the  Sabines.' 
She  changed  from  grief  to  joy,  and  from  joy  to  ter- 
ror, so  that  we  were  all  enchanted." 

Such  a  "  lime-light,"  perhaps  revealing  without  be- 
ing seen,  was  Emma's  own  organisation  unconsciously 
"  lighting  up  "  the  possibilities  of  others.  Her  "  At- 
titudes "  were  the  expression  of  her  successive  and 
often  self-deceiving  emotions.  In  the  old  Indian  mu- 
sic, we  are  told,  are  certain  selected  notes,  called 
"  ragas,"  that,  separately  and  without  harmonised  rela- 
tions, strike  whole  moods  into  the  heart  of  the  listener. 


396  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Such,  it  seems  to  me,  was  her  temperament,  and  such 
its  function. 

Sir  William  Hamilton  was  buried  by  the  side  of  his 
first  wife,  as  he  had  promised  her  twenty-five  years  be- 
fore. 

A  month  after  his  decease  the  will  was  read  in  Pic- 
cadilly before  the  assembled  relations — the  Grevilles, 
the  Cathcarts,  the  Meyricks,  the  Abercorns,  and  the 
rest.  Nelson  forwarded  the  announcement  to  Davison 
by  Oliver.  He  had  suggested  the  advisability  of  read- 
ing Sir  William's  deed  of  gift  of  the  furniture  to 
Emma  before  a  full  conclave,  as  it  might  otherwise  "  be 
supposed  that  Mr.  C.  Greville  gives  Lady  H.  the  fur- 
niture," which  her  money  had  bought  for  Sir  William. 
The  will  itself  proved  Nelson's  suspicion  of  Greville's 
influence  not  altogether  unfounded,  and  the  fact 
"  vexed "  him  sorely.  Though  Hamilton  had  fore- 
stalled income,  his  means  were  ample ;  even  Elliot  was 
astonished  at  the  inadequate  provision  for  his  widow.1 
To  his  "  dear  wife  Emma  "  he  bequeathed  a  sum  of 
£300,  and  an  annuity  of  £800,  to  include  provision  for 
her  mother.  In  a  codicil  he  recites  that  as  he  had 
promised  to  pay  her  debts,  amounting  to  £700,  but  of 
this  sum  had  only  paid  £250,  Greville  was  to  pay  her 
in  advance  the  current  annuity  of  £800,  for  herself  and 
Mrs.  Cadogan,  while  the  unpaid  remainder  of  her  debts 
she  was  to  recover  as  a  charge  upon  the  arrears  of  pen- 
sion owed  him  by  the  Government.  The  last  arrange- 
ment was  nugatory  on  the  face  of  it.  The  Government 
that  had  disregarded  Sir  William  was  unlikely  to  re- 

1  Minto  Life  and  Letters,  vol.  ii.  p.  283.  "Worse  off  than  I 
imagined."  He  adds :  "  She  talked  very  freely  of  her  situation 
with  Nelson,  and  of  the  construction  the  world  may  have  put 
upon  it,  but  protested  that  her  attachment  was  perfectly  pure 
which  I  can  believe,  though  I  declare  it  is  of  no  consequence 
whether  it  is  so  or  not."  Maria  Carolina  also  deplored  her  "in- 
different provision." 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  397 

gard  his  widow.  It  is  but  just  towards  Greville,  who 
had  been  always  at  his  uncle's  elbow,  to  relate  that 
within  a  week  of  Sir  William's  demise  he  urged  his 
dying  wishes  on  the  then  Foreign  Secretary  in  the 
strongest  terms,  while  at  the  same  time  he  repeated 
his  (Hamilton's)  previous  strictures  on  the  Govern- 
ment's past  treatment.  "  I  know,"  he  concluded,  "  that 
the  records  of  your  office  confirm  the  testimony  of  their 
Sicilian  Majesties  by  letter  as  well  as  by  their  Min- 
isters of  circumstances  peculiarly  distinguished  and 
honourable  to  her,  and  at  the  same  time  of  high  im- 
portance to  the  public  service."  But  Emma  was  thus 
left  with  no  capital  except  the  furniture,  of  uncertain 
value,  and  with  an  income  diminished  by  a  debt  which 
her  husband  had  promised  to  discharge,  but  of  which 
only  one-quarter  had  been  settled.  Greville  and  his 
brother,  the  Colonel,  were  declared  executors,  the  first 
being  residuary  legatee.  To  Nelson  he  gave  an  enamel 
of  Emma  "  as  a  very  small  token  of  the  great  regard  I 
have  for  his  lordship,  the  most  virtuous,  loyal,  and 
truly  brave  character  I  ever  met  with.  God  bless  him, 
and  shame  fall  on  all  those  who  do  not  say  Amen." 

This  avowal  does  Hamilton  honour.  Poor  Nestor! 
— however  reluctant  his  submission,  whatever  his  mis- 
givings, he  steeled  himself  against  them  to  the  last. 
I  do  not  think  that  Hamilton  was  wholly  befooled,  but 
how  could  the  Nelson  that  he  loved  reconcile  to  his 
conscience  such  tributes  of  trust  from  one  whom  he 
had  long  cherished  with  more  than  esteem?  He  and 
Emma  must  both  have  felt  a  pang  of  shame  and  re- 
morse. They  had  skated  on  thin  ice  together.  Though 
their  duplicity,  uncongenial  to  the  frankness  of  both, 
had  been  imposed  on  them  by  their  united  care  for  each 
other's  interest,  and  Horatia's,  it  had  also  imposed  upon 
others.  Bearing  in  mind  every  extenuation,  one  would 
fain  forget  this  unlovely  spectacle;  apart  from  extenu- 


398  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

ation  it  is  hideous.  Their  falsity  towards  Hamilton 
cannot  be  condoned.  Their  sin  had  impaired  Emma's 
sense,  and  Nelson's  principle,  of  truth. 

Neither  of  them  lost  time  in  besetting  the  authorities 
for  a  grant  both  of  pension  and  of  compensation  which 
might  clear  her  of  debt.  To  Addington  she  wrote  her- 
self. She  was  "  forced  to  petition."  She  was  "  most 
sadly  bereaved."  She  was  now  "  in  circumstances  far 
below  those  in  which  the  goodness  "of  her  "  dear  Sir 
William  "  allowed  her  "  to  move  for  so  many  years." 
She  pleaded  for  his  thirty-six  years'  efforts  for  Eng- 
land at  Naples.  "  And  may  I  mention,"  she  added,  in 
words  to  be  carefully  scanned  as  the  first  expression 
of  her  claims,  "what  is  well  known  to  the  then  ad- 
ministration at  home — how  I  too  strove  to  do  all  I 
could  towards  the  service  of  our  King  and  Country. 
The  fleet  itself,  I  can  truly  say,  could  not  have  got  into 
Sicily  but  for  what  I  was  happily  able  to  do  with  the 
Queen  of  Naples  (and  through  her  secret  instructions 
so  obtained),  on  which  depended  the  refitting  of  the 
fleet  in  Sicily,  and  with  that,  all  which  followed  so 
gloriously  at  the  Nile.  These  few  words,  though 
seemingly  much  at  large,  may  not  be  extravagant  at  all. 
iThey  are,  indeed,  true.  I  wish  them  to  be  heard  only 
as  they  can  be  proved ;  and  being  proved,  may  I  hope 
for  what  I  have  now  desired."  Addington  professed 
to  Lord  Melville,  who  spoke  to  him  on  the  matter,  that 
he  would  give  the  whole  circumstances  a  favourable 
consideration.  But  Nelson  from  the  first  counted  little 
on  his  assistance,  though  of  Pitt,  for  the  moment,  he 
seemed  rather  more  sanguine. 

But  already,  amid  all  these  agitations,  the  supreme 
one  of  renewed  severance  from  Nelson  threatened.  He 
had  always  prophesied  that  the  truce  of  Amiens  would 
not  endure.  In  May  Napoleon  divined  the  safe  mo- 
ment for  breaking  it.  Russia  was  then  friendly,  and 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  399 

Austria  hesitating.  It  was  not  till  the  following  year, 
when  his  murder  of  the  Due  d'Enghien  scandalised  Eu- 
rope, that  Russia  contrived  the  third  coalition,  which 
Prussia  and  Austria  joined.  Napoleon  now  prepared 
to  invade  Naples :  his  troops  were  soon  to  occupy  Han- 
over. Our  Ambassador,  Lord  Whitworth,  was  recalled 
from  Paris.  Maria  Carolina  assured  Emma  of  her 
delight  at  the  prospect  of  Nelson's  renewed  Medi- 
terranean command,  and  Acton,  who  had  by  now  as- 
sumed the  superintendence  of  Bronte,  looked  forward 
to  seeing  his  old  associate  once  more. 

Death,  doubt,  and  despair  confronted  Emma  to- 
gether, but  she  did  not  quail.  Her  faults  were  many, 
but  cowardice  was  never  one  of  them.  Her  hero 
would  win  fresh  victories  and  once  more  save  his 
country.  She  little  recked  how  long  that  absence  was 
to  last.  For  the  first  time  he  had  been  with  her  for 
eighteen  months,  unparted. 

A  wedding  and  a  christening  signalised  the  month 
of  his  departure,  and  showed  Nelson  and  Emma  to- 
gether in  public. 

In  May,  at  the  Clarges  Street  house,  to  which  Emma 
had  then  been  forced  to  remove,  Captain  Sir  William 
Bolton  married  his  cousin,  the  daughter  of  Nelson's 
sister  and  Emma's  friend,  Mrs.  Thomas  Bolton. 
Emma  was  afterwards  to  be  godmother  to  their  first- 
born, "  Emma  Horatia."  Sir  William,  for  whose  pro- 
motion Nelson  always  exerted  himself,  proved  some- 
what of  a  booby,  to  Nelson's  amused  chagrin. 

And  three  days  before  he  said  farewell,  Horatia  was 
baptized  in  the  same  Marylebone  church  which  had  wit- 
nessed her  mother's  marriage.  The  nurse  had  already 
brought  the  two  years  old  child  from  time  to  time  to 
see  them  at  Merton.  Nelson  and  Emma  stood  by  the 
font  as  god-parents  of  their  own  child,  and  two  clergy- 
men officiated  at  the  christening  of  "  Horatia  Nelson 


400  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Thomson."  Now,  at  least,  she  might  soon  find  her 
home  at  Merton.  Nelson  gave  her  a  silver  cup,  a  cup 
by  which  hangs  a  sad  tale,  and  which,  years  afterwards, 
had  to  be  sacrificed  to  poverty. 

Greville  hardly  behaved  well.  He  harshly  denied 
her  a  moment  longer  than  the  end  of  April  in  the  Pic- 
cadilly house.  She  applied  to  him,  in  the  third  per- 
son, to  ascertain  the  precise  limit  of  her  stay,  as  she 
must  "  look  out  for  lodgings  "  and  "  reduce  her  ex- 
penses." Nelson,  however,  now  resolved  to  allow  her 
£100  a  month  for  the  upkeep  of  Merton,  but  unfor- 
tunately, though  mainly  residing  at  her  "  farm,"  she 
could  not  refrain  from  still  renting  a  smaller  town 
house  in  Clarges  Street. 

An  altercation  ensued,  it  is  said,  between  Nelson 
and  Greville.  At  any  rate,  Greville's  continued  hard- 
ness towards  Emma,  soon  to  be  accentuated  by  his  de- 
duction of  the  income-tax  from  her  annuity,  evoked 
the  following  from  Nelson  more  than  two  years  after- 
wards : — 

"  Mr.  Greville  is  a  shabby  fellow.  It  never  could 
have  been  the  intention  of  Sir  William  but  that  you 
should  have  had  seven  hundred  pounds  a  year  neat 
money.  ...  It  may  be  law,  but  it  is  not  just,  nor  in 
equity  would,  I  believe,  be  considered  as  the  will  and  in- 
tention of  Sir  William.  Never  mind!  Thank  God, 
you  do  not  want  any  of  his  kindness;  nor  will  he  give 
you  justice." 

At  four  o'clock  on  the  morning  of  May  18,  the  post- 
chaise  drew  up  before  Merton  Place :  only  one  trunk 
was  in  it.  Before  any  one  was  astir.  Nelson  had  bid- 
den his  passionate  adieu,  and  had  driven  off  with  the 
dawn.  From  Kingston,  on  his  road,  he  despatched 
the  familiar  line  of  consolation: — 

"Cheer  up,  my  dearest  Emma,  and  be  assured  that 
I  ever  have  been2  and  am  and  ever  will  be,  your  most 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  401 

faithful  and  affectionate."  He  had  hardly  reached  his 
destination  when  he  resumed :  "  Either  my  ideas  are 
altered,  or  Portsmouth.  ...  It  is  a  place,  the  picture 
of  desolation  and  misery,  but  perhaps  it  is  the  con- 
trast to  what  I  have  been  used  to.  ...  When  you  see 
my  ettve,  which  you  will  when  you  receive  this  letter, 
give  her  a  kiss  from  me,,  and  tell  her  that  I  never  shall 
forget  either  her  or  her  dear  good  mother."  Two 
days  later  he  again  gave  comfort  from  the  Victory : — 
"  You  will  believe  that  although  I  am  glad  to  leave 
that  horrid  place  Portsmouth,  yet  the  being  afloat 
makes  me  now  feel  that  we  do  not  tread  the  same  ele- 
ment. I  feel  from  my  soul  that  God  is  good,  and  in. 
His  due  wisdom  will  unite  us.  Only,  when  you  look 
upon  our  dear  child,  call  to  your  remembrance  all  that 
you  think  I  would  say,  was  I  present.  And  be  as- 
sured that  I  am  thinking  of  you  every  moment.  My 
heart  is  full  to  bursting.  May  God  Almighty  bless 
you  is  the  fervent  prayer  of,  my  dear  beloved  Emma, 
your  most  faithful,  affectionate  Nelson." 

The  old  trio  had  been  dissolved,  and  a  new  trio 
reigned  in  its  stead.  Horatia  now  sanctified  his  ex- 
istence, her  portrait  already  adorned  his  cabin.  Emma 
becomes  Calypso  no  more,  but  Penelope — a  Penelope, 
moreover,  with  repulsed  suitors.  On  Greville's  life — 
even  on  Hamilton's — she  had  been  but  an  iridescence, 
but  to  Nelson  she  is  light,  air,  and  heat  in  one;  and 
what  she  was  to  him,  that  Nelson  remains  to  her  in 
perpetuity. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

PENELOPE  AND  ULYSSES 

June,  1803 — January,  1806 

IT  is  a  far  cry  from  Merton  to  the  Mediterranean, 
but  for  Nelson  the  one  was  nearly  as  important  as 
the  other:  the  heart  of  Ulysses  was  with  his 
Penelope. 

Estranged  Greville  straightway  took  up  his  uncle's 
mantle,  exchanging  learned  disquisitions  with  Banks 
about  "  mud  volcanoes  in  Trinidad."  Davison  was 
trying  to  curb  Emma's  extravagant  schemes  for  Mer- 
ton improvements,  though  he  himself  was  now  in  elec- 
tion scrapes,  and  a  few  years  later  was,  unfortunately, 
to  rival  St.  George  himself  as  a  fraudulent  contractor. 
Penelope  (fretted  and  ailing),  whether  at  Merton, 
Southend,  Clarges  Street,  or  Canterbury,  by  turns 
with  the  Matchams,  Boltons,  or  Nelsons,  sent  daily 
reports  to  her  wandering  Ulysses.  She  tattled  alike 
of  her  conflicting  emotions,  of  the  dukes  and  princes, 
her  suitors,  and  of  her  exertions  to  secure  berths  for 
countless  applicants.  All  Nelson's  nephews  and  nieces 
constantly  found  themselves  a  happy  family  under  her 
roof,  and  Merton  was  now  Merton  Academy  for 
Charlotte.  Strange  as  it  seems,  Emma's  relations 
and  Nelson's  were  on  affectionate  and  equal  terms,  her 
cousin,  Sarah  Connor,  being  now  governess  to  the  Bol- 
ton  children,  while  Mrs.  Matcham,  Nelson's  pet  sister, 
actually  wished  to  find  a  new  house  near  Merton. 
"  Our  good  Mrs.  Cadogan,"  too,  was  beloved  by  his 

402 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  403 

family  and  his  friends,  whom  she  provided  from  the 
dairy.  She  was  the  Merton  economist,  kept  all  too 
busy  checking  the  accounts  of  the  rapacious  Cribb.1 
Such  was  Penelope's  chronicle. 

Nelson  had  only  three  thoughts — Emma,  Horatia, 
and  the  French  fleet.  During  the  next  three  years, 
whether  at  Gibraltar  or  Naples,  Toulon  or,  afterwards, 
La  Rosas,  and  eventually  off  Boulogne,  he  mused  on 
these,  and  these  alone,  by  day;  he  dreamed  of  them 
at  night;  they  possessed  him  in  fierce  concentration. 
He  was  an  inspired  monomaniac,  and  the  flame  of  his 
fanaticism  both  burnt  and  fired  him  to  achievement. 
Different  kinds  of  self- forgetful  ardour  animate  every 
prophet.  Adoration  of  his  country,  a  woman,  and  a 
child,  animated  Nelson.  In  this  he  contrasts  with 
all  his  colleagues  and  predecessors,  who  did  their  duty 
like  stolid  Spartans,  unwarmed  and  unenticed  by  any 
dangerous  glow.  To  the  sober-minded,  Emma  is  his 
will-of-the-wisp;  to  him,  she  was  his  beacon.  He 
calls  her  his  "Alpha  and  Omega";  he  beseeches  her- 
not  to  fret.  Her  and  the  French  fleet — "  to  these  two 
objects  tend  all  his  thoughts,  plans,  and  toils,"  and  he 
will  "  embrace  them  so  close  "  when  he  "  can  lay  hold 
of  either  the  one  or  the  other,  that  the  devil  himself 
should  not  separate  "  them.  He  longed  "  to  see  both  " 
in  their  "  proper  places  " — the  one  at  sea,  the  other  "  at 
dear  Merton,  which,  in  every  sense  of  the  word,"  he 
expects  "  to  find  a  paradise."  He  still  deemed  none 
worthy  "  to  wipe  her  shoes."  He  vowed  not  to  quit 
his  ship  till  they  could  meet  again.  "  From  Ambas- 
satrice  to  the  duties  of  domestic  life  "  he  has  never 
seen  her  equal ;  her  "  elegance,  .  .  .  accomplishments, 
and,  above  all,  goodness  of  heart,"  are  "  unparalleled," 

1  He  was  a  sort  of  steward  at  Merton,  but  he  also  supplied 
the  green-groceries.  He  encouraged  the  extravagant  expense  of 
the  Merton  improvements. 


404  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

and  he  is  devoted  to  her  "  for  ever  and  beyond  ft." 
Eagerly  he  treasured  the  slenderest  tidings  of  her  from 
officers  returning  to  or  from  England. 

Each  night,  as  Scott,  his  chaplain — Scott,  with  his 
lightning-struck  head — relates  to  Emma,  he  toasted 
their  Guardian  Angel,  with  a  tender  look  towards  her 
portrait,  and  a  side  glance,  doubtless,  at  the  smiling 
face  of  the  child  below  it.  To  Horatia  he  addressed 
the  first  whole  letter  that  he  had  written  to  her.  He 
bought  her  a  gold  watch  through  Falconet  of  Naples, 
and  forwarded  it  as  a  reminder  of  her  liking  to  listen 
to  his  own;  he  sent  her  a  pretty  picture-book  of  "  Span- 
ish dresses,"  bidding  her  be  always  good  and  obedient 
to  her  "  Guardian  Angel,  Lady  Hamilton."  When, 
for  the  second  time,  he  ensured  such  a  settlement  for 
Horatia's  future  as  no  imprudence  could  undo,  he  com- 
mended "  the  dear  little  innocent  "  to  Emma,  as  certain 
to  train  her  in  the  paths  of  religion  and  virtue. 
Emma's  every  concern  interested  him.  In  her  letters 
he  finds  the  "  knack  "  of  hitting  off  and  picturing  topics 
to  a  marvel.  Over  her  cousin,  Charles  Connor,  now  a 
midshipman  under  his  charge,  he  watched  like  a 
father.  As  he  passed  Capri,  recollection  "  almost  over- 
powers "  his  feelings.  He  enclosed  for  her  the  new  en- 
treaties of  her  old  friends  the  King  and  Queen  of 
Naples,  while  she  transmitted  to  him  Maria  Carolina's 
letter  to  her,  protesting  the  usual  sympathy  and  grati- 
tude. Amid  his  many  engrossments  he  followed  the 
projected  improvements  at  Merton  as  if  he  were  there 
— the  new  rooms  and  porch,  the  new  road,  the  dike  to 
fill  up  a  part  of  the  "  Nile,"  the  surrender  of  a  strip  to 
"  Mr.  Bennett,  which  will  save  £50  a  year,"  the  ac- 
quirement of  another  field,  the  "  strong  netting "  to 
surround  the  rivulet  for  little  Horatia's  safety.  Davi- 
son  had  remonstrated  over  the  expense ;  Nelson  directed 
him  to  proceed.  He  expressly  enjoined  her — a  fact 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  405 

afterwards  important — not  to  pay  for  them  out  of  her 
income.  He  little  guessed  what  a  millstone  she  was 
hanging  round  her  neck;  she  was  right  to  have  her 
way;  all  was  right  always  that  she  did,  wrote,  or 
thought.  He  commended  her  to  Davison's  tenderest 
care.  He  chose  her  presents  of  shawls  and  chains 
from  Naples.  He  recovered  some  of  her  lost  furni- 
ture both  at  Malta  and  Palermo.  He  enclosed  £100 — 
for  herself  and  the  poor  at  Merton,  together  with  gifts 
to  Miss  Connor,  Mrs.  Cadogan,  and  Charlotte,  "  a 
trifling  remembrance  from  me,  whose  whole  soul  is  at 
Merton";  and  her  "good  mother"  is  always  sure  of 
his  "  sincerest  regard." 

Emma's  heart,  too,  was  across  the  sea.  She 
watched  every  wind,  chance,  and  disappointment. 
When  at  Sonthend,  where  she  met  her  old  friend  Jane 
Powell,  the  actress,  she  thought  of  little  but  Nelson 
and  Horatia.  She  was  in  ill  health;  but  she  was  still 
"  patroness  of  the  navy,"  forwarding  each  officer's  re- 
quests to,  and  his  interest  with,  her  Nelson.  If  she 
diverted  herself  with  concerts,  or  teased  her  ogling 
suitors,  at  the  same  time  she  begged  Davison  to  intro- 
duce her  to  Nepean,  for  her  hero's  sake.  She  kept  the 
"  glorious  first  of  August  "  with  her  friends,  and  only 
regretted  that  the  Abbe  Campbell  must  be  absent.  She 
looked  anxiously  for  letters, — "  despatches  and  sea 
breezes  will  restore  you,"  wrote  Mrs.  Bolton.  She 
bought  and  sent  off  his  very  boots — a  size,  it  would 
seem,  too  small.  He  has  warned  her  never  to  spend 
her  money  "  to  please  a  pack  of  fools,"  nor  to  let  her 
native  generosity  empty  her  purse  even  for  his  sisters, 
as  she  so  often  did;  not  to  hunt  for  a  legacy  from 
"  Old  Q." — Nelson  (repeating  her  own  phrase) 
"  would  not  give  sixpence  to  call  the  King  my  uncle." 
He  regretted  Addington's  hard-heartedness  in  begrudg- 
ing her  an  annuity,  but  Addington's  tether  was  fast 


406  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

coming  to  an  end.  He  got  the  Queen  to  address  the 
Government  on  Emma's  behalf,  though  he  placed  little 
reliance  on  the  letter's  efficacy  or  her  friendship. 
When,  nearly  eighteen  months  later,  he  was  baulked, 
as  he  usually  was,  of  his  prize-money,  Emma  char- 
acteristically wrote  to  Davison : — "  The  Polyphemus 
should  have  been  Nelson's,  but  he  is  rich  in  great  and 
noble  deeds,  which  t'other,  poor  devil,  is  not.  So  let 
dirty  wretches  get  pelf  to  comfort  them:  victory  be- 
longs to  Nelson.  Not  but  what  I  think  money  neces- 
sary for  comforts ;  and  I  hope  our,  yours,  and  my  Nel- 
son will  get  a  little,  for  all  Master  O."  x  How  well 
does  this  accord  with  Nelson's  own  avowal  to  her  of 
"  honourable  poverty  "  !  "I  have  often  said,  and  with 
honest  pride,  what  I  have  is  my  own ;  it  never  cost  the 
widow  a  tear  or  the  nation  a  farthing.  I  got  what 
I  have  with  my  pure  blood  from  the  enemies  of  my 
country.  Our  house,  my  own  Emma,  is  built  upon  a 
solid  foundation." 

In  September,  so  wretched  was  she  away  from  him, 
that  she  implored  him  to  let  her  come  out  and  see  him. 
"  Good  sense,"  he  replied,  "  is  obliged  to  give  way  to 
what  is  right,  and  I  verily  believe  that  I  am  more  likely 
to  be  happy  with  you  at  Merton  than  any  other  place, 
and  that  our  meeting  at  Merton  is  more  probable  to 
happen  sooner  than  any  wild  chase  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean." "  It  would  kill  you,"  he  repeated,  "  and  my- 
self to  see  you.  Much  less  possible,  to  have  Charlotte, 
Horatia,  etc.,  on  board  ship."  And  as  for  living  in 
Italy,  "  that  is  entirely  out  of  the  question.  Nobody 
cares  for  us  there  " :  it  would  cost  him  a  fortune  to  go 
to  Bronte,  and  be  "  tormented  "  out  of  his  life.  In- 
deed at  this  very  moment  he  had  serious  thoughts  of  re- 
linquishing Bronte  altogether. 

Nelson  was  never  self-indulgent;  he  was  unselfish, 
1  Sir  John  Orde.  This  letter  is  of  January,  1805. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  407 

if  not  selfless,  in  devotion,  even  where  he  went  most 
astray.  Under  dispiritments  innumerable,  and  morti- 
fications doubly  galling  to  one  of  his  temperament, 
through  a  catalogue  of  hardships  which  rival  the 
apostle's,  in  weary  wakefulness,  in  headache,  eye-ache, 
toothache,  and  heartache,  constantly  sea-sick  in  the 
newly  painted  cabins  which  he  abhorred,  with  a  body, 
as  he  said,  unequal  to  his  spirit,  he  was  always  think- 
ing of  and  caring  for  others;  and  it  is  this  that  endears 
him  to  us  even  more  than  his  glory.  At  this  very  time 
he  bade  Emma  do  her  utmost  for  General  Dumouriez, 
the  brave  enemy  turned  into  a  friend — their  friend; 
not  a  sailor  in  the  service  but  was  proud  of  one  of  his 

"...  nameless,  un remembered  acts 
Of  kindness  and  of  love," 

and  his  considerate  maintenance  of  their  health  was  his 
perpetual  boast. 

There  was,  moreover,  something  daemonic  about  this 
wonderful  man.  At  a  glance  he  sweeps  the  horizon, 
intuitively  discerning  the  danger  and  its  preventives. 
At  Naples  once  more  he  renewed  the  royal  gratitude, 
incited  Acton,  now  rapidly  falling  into  disfavour,  and 
forecast  the  French  designs  at  a  time  when  Ferdinand 
wrote  to  him,  "  the  hand  of  Providence  again  weighs 
heavy  on  us,"  when  the  Sicilians  themselves,  and  even 
the  Queen,  were  on  the  verge  of  turning  towards  Na- 
poleon's risen  sun,  and  our  old  acquaintance  Ruffo,  now 
ambassador,  was  off  on  the  wonted  wild-goose  chase  to 
Vienna.  As  in  public,  so  in  private,  Nelson  seems  al- 
ways to  hear  voices  prompting  him.  He  believes  in  a 
star  that  will  guide  him  to  victory  and  home.  "  My 
sight  is  getting  very  bad,"  he  wrote,  "  but  I  must  not 
be  sick  till  after  the  French  fleet  is  taken,"  at  the  very 
moment  when  it  seemed  further  off  than  ever.  Small 
wonder  that,  with  such  a  leader,  Davison  ejaculated  his 


408  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

certainty  that  sooner  or  later  Buonaparte's  Boulogne 
flotilla  would  "  go  to  old  Nick." 

Nelson  this  autumn  retailed  all  the  Neapolitan  gos- 
sip for  Emma.  Napoleon  had  dictated  to  Maria  Caro- 
lina the  dismissal  of  her  ex-favourite,  Acton.  She  her- 
self, surrounded  by  French  minions,  had  relapsed  into 
the  peccadillos  of  a  date  prior  to  Emma's  arrival,  of 
which  Acton  used  to  tell  them  such  amazing  stories. 
The  King  had  thrown  the  last  shred  of  love  for  her  to 
the  winds.  It  would  not  be  long  before  Napoleon 
pounced  on  and  annexed  Naples;  before  the  royalties 
were  once  more  exiles  in  Sicily.  The  Princess  Bel- 
monte  was  mischief-making  in  London,  and  Emma 
must  be  careful  of  encountering  her.  All  Sir  Will- 
iam's old  dependants  were  cared  for;  one  of  his  ser- 
vitors, Gaetano,  was  already  in  Nelson's  service,  and 
preferred  it  to  home.  Hugh  Elliot  was  now  ambas- 
sador, friendly  to  Emma's  claims.  One  of  the  Ham- 
iltons'  old  abodes  had  become  an  hotel.  Their  ancient 
friend,  Lord  Bristol,  was  dead  at  Rome.  He  had  once 
promised  them  the  bequest  of  a  table,  but  now,  "  There 
will  be  no  Lord  Bristol's  table.  He  tore  his  last  will 
a  few  hours  before  his  death." 

These  are  trifles,  but  before  reverting  to  Emma,  let 
us  rapidly  glance  at  Nelson's  doings  during  this  year 
of  1804,  during  his  tedious  task  of  guarding  the  Medi- 
terranean and  watching  Toulon  ("blockading"  he 
would  never  term  it:  he  hated  blockades).  He  was 
endeavouring  to  decoy  the  French  to  sea — to  "  put  salt 
on  their  tails,"  but  save  for  a  brief  spurt  in  May,  en- 
deavouring in  vain.  As.  the  French  fleet  was  "  in  and 
out,"  so  he  was  up  and  down — at  Malta,  Palermo,  and 
when  Spain  rejoined  the  fray,  at  Barcelona,  where  the 
Quaker  merchant  "  Friend  Gaynor  "  became  a  fresh 
intermediary  with  Emma.  His  "  time,"  as  he  said, 
"  and  movements  depended  on  Buonaparte."  Impa- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  409 

tient  by  nature,  he  could  play  the  waiting  game  to  per- 
fection. Though  his  cough  and  swelled  side  continu- 
ally troubled  him,  he  was  as  indefatigable  out  of  action 
as  in  it,  and  he  disdained  the  mean  advantage  offered 
by  any  subordinate's  breach  of  strict  neutrality.  He 
still  hoped  to  force  those  unconscionable  ships  out  of 
port.  Treville  was  now  the  Toulon  Admiral,  and 
Nelson  "  owed  him  one  "  for  landing  the  Grenadiers  at 
Naples  in  1792.  Amid  the  discouragements  of  long 
delays  and  the  customary  official  threat  to  supplant 
him,  he  could  look  forward  to  eating  "  his  Christmas 
dinner  at  Merton."  Although,  when  his  birthday  came 
round,  he  was  farther  off  from  consummation  than 
ever,  and  reminded  Emma  of  his  "  forty-six  years  of 
toil  and  trouble,"  he  refused  to  appear  downcast.  The 
accession  of  Pitt  to  power  in  the  spring  of  1804  cheered 
him,  both  on  England's  account  and  hers.  He  still  reg- 
ularly drank  her  health  and  "  darling  "  Horatia's.  Her 
letters  still  brought  before  him  the  tranquillity  of  their 
days;  he  rejoiced  in  her  many  acts  of  kindness,  not 
only  to  his  friends  and  relations,  but  to  grateful 
strangers.  He  welcomed  a  tress  of  her  beautiful  hair, 
and  treated  it  as  a  pilgrim  does  a  relic.  Even  while 
he  sat  signing  orders,  he  wrote  to  her,  "  My  life,  my 
soul,  God  in  heaven  bless  you."  He  remembered  the 
birthday  of  the  "  dear  beloved  woman  "  with  emphasis. 
He  instructed  her  to  buy  pieces  of  plate  for  their  new 
and  joint  god-children.  Even  in  his  wrath  at  the  cap- 
ture of  a  vessel  bringing  her  portrait  and  letters,  he 
made  merry  over  the  admiration  of  them  by  the  French 
Consul  at  Barcelona. 

While  Emma  was  occupied  with  Horatia  and  her 
young  charges  from  Norfolk,  all  had  suddenly  to  be 
dismissed.  Nelson's  second  daughter,  "  Emma,"  was 
born  may  be  at  the  close  of  February.  The  reader  will 


4io  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

recall  Nelson's  torrent  of  passionate  love  and  anxiety 
in  the  ebullition  cited  x  as  applicable  to  his  feelings  at 
the  time  of  Horatia's  birth.  At  this  very  moment 
Horatia  was  unwell  also,  and  her  illness  added  to  his 
"  raging  fever "  of  emotion  as  he  awaited  Emma's 
news.  Before  July,  the  second  infant  of  his  hopes  was 
dead.  Thorns  there  were  besides  roses  at  Merton. 

All  this  while  the  correspondence  of  the  Boltons  and 
Matchams,  both  young  and  old,  with  Lady  Hamilton, 
breathes  affectionate  regard,  unfeigned  admiration,  and 
real  respect.  She  is  the  best  of  friends;  her  coming 
is  eagerly  awaited,  her  going  keenly  deplored.  Eliza 
and  Anne  Bolton  find  in  her  a  confidante,  a  trusted  and 
trustworthy  counsellor,  the  acme  of  the  accomplish- 
ments that  she  knows  how  to  impart  to  them.  With 
the  William  Nelsons  it  was  the  same,  though  here,  per- 
haps, the  motives  were  less  disinterested.  Charlotte 
adores  her  benefactress  and  educatress.  As  for  the 
Navy,  Louis  and  others,  in  their  letters,  look  up  to  her 
almost  with  veneration.  If  Emma  had  the  power  of 
offending,  that  also  of  conciliating  was  hers.  These 
are  facts  which  cannot  be  wholly  ascribed  to  the  exag- 
gerations of  homely  admirers,  or  to  the  self-interest  of 
office-seekers.  These  people  seem,  none  of  them,  ever 
to  have  relinquished  their  fondness. 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  variety  of  contrasts  in  a  na- 
ture to  which  it  lends  fascination.  Emma's  tissue  is 
spangled  homespun,  but  the  spangles  mainly  overlie  it. 
Let  us  examine  it  on  both  sides. 

We  watch  her  throughout  these  letters,  on  the  one 
hand,  simple,  homely,  sympathetic,  with  no  good  or 
humble  office  beneath  her,  working  in  and  for  her 
house  and  her  friends;  a  Lady  Bountiful  dignifying 
the  trivial  round,  and  generous  not  only  with  her  purse 
but  with  her  time,  her  praise,  and  her  exertions — a  true 
*Cf.  chapter  xi. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  4" 

Penelope  by  her  spinning-wheel.  And  yet,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  view  her  inhaling  the  fumes  of  homage, 
whether  from  the  suitors  or  the  crowd.  We  see  her 
courting  the  flutter  of  Bohemia,  while  she  cherishes  her 
household  gods,  and  hugging  flattery  though  she  has  a 
keen  scent  for  the  flatterer.  In  like  manner  she  bor- 
rows with  far  less  consideration  than  she  gives;  nor 
does  debt  cause  her  a  pang  until  its  consequences  are  in 
sight.  To  the  end  she  remains  far  more  lavish  to  her 
lowliest  kinsfolk  and  associates  than  to  herself,  while 
she  conceals  her  unsparing  generosity  quite  as  much  as 
her  waste.  So  far  from  "  affecting  to  be  unaffected  " 
— that  "  sham  simplicity  which  is  a  refined  imposture  " 
— she  rather  affects  affectation,  whether  from  whim  or 
in  self-defence.  Devoid  of  the  petty  vanities  of 
fashion,  she  is  vain  of  her  power.  Tender  in  excess  to 
her  friends,  to  her  foes  she  can  be  overbearing.  En- 
joying the  recognition  of  rank,  of  her  own  kindred  she 
is  proud;  and  if  she  is  not  gentle,  she  is  never  genteel, 
though  in  her  flush  of  pride  at  the  royal  licence  to  wear 
her  Maltese  honours,  she  can  stoop  to  bid  Heralds' 
College  invent  the  "  arms  of  Lyons."  Lyon's  arms, 
forsooth!  Had  her  blacksmith  father  but  known  of 
this,  surely  he  would  have  thrown  up  his  own  brawny 
arms  in  astonishment.  Compassionate  and  sensitive, 
to  such  as  thwart  or  suspect  her  she  can  be  coarse  and 
obdurate.  Natural  and  outspoken  to  a  fault,  she  is 
unscrupulous  wherever  her  connection  with  Nelson  is 
concerned,  in  double-speaking  and  double-dealing. 
Piquing  flirtation,  to  Nelson  she  abides  steadfast  as  a 
rock.  When  least  virtuous,  she  never  loses  a  sense 
of  and  reverence  for  virtue.  A  tender,  if  unwise, 
mother,  her  moods  drive  her  into  outbursts  with  the 
child  she  adores.  Big  schemes  of  expenditure  always 
allure  her;  to  little  economies  she  attends,  and  she  will 
squander  by  mismanagement  in  the  mass  what  her  man- 


412  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

agement  saves  in  detail.  Constantly  ailing,  she  is  al- 
ways energetic,  but  though  never  idle,  she  is  often  in- 
dolent. Passionate  and  even  stormy,  she  battles  hard 
with  a  temperament  which  repeatedly  masters  her. 
She  is  at  once  home-loving  and  pleasure-loving,  care- 
ful and  careless,  sensible  and  silly,  kind  and  cruel,  mod- 
est and  unblushing,  calm  and  petulant,  natural  and  arti- 
ficial; and  through  all  these  phases  runs  the  thread  of 
individuality,  of  self -consciousness,  of  independence,  of 
insurgent  and  infectious  courage  and  enthusiasm. 

The  letters  speak  for  themselves.  Little  Miss 
Matcham,  at  "  Pappa's  "  request,  indited  a  prim  little 
note  to  her  dearest  Lady  Hamilton.  Miss  Anne  Bol- 
ton,  often  at  loggerheads  with  her  morbid  sister  Eliza, 
wrote  to  her  at  Ramsgate,  where  she  was  recruiting  her 
health  with  Charlotte  and  Mrs.  William  Nelson: — 

"  I  would  have  thanked  you  sooner  for  the  few  af- 
fectionate lines  you  sent  me  by  Bowen,  tho'  indeed  the 
life  we  lead  is  so  uniformly  quiet,  that  tho'  we  are  per- 
fectly happy  and  comfortable,  it  is  very  unfavourable 
to  letter  writing.  ...  It  gives  me  much  pleasure  to 
find  that  Miss  Connor  is  not  to  come  into  Norfolk,  till 
you  go.  I  should  not  know  what  to  do  without  her. 
She  is  so  companionable  to  me,  who,  you  know,  would 
have  none  without  her,  for  Eliza,  when  most  agreeable, 
I  consider  as  nothing,  and  my  father  is  very  much  in 
town.  She  is  so  good,  she  seems  quite  contented  with 
the  very  retired  life  we  lead.  We  have  got  our  instru- 
ment, which,  with  books  and  work,  form  our  whole 
amusement.  Sometimes,  by  way  of  variety,  we  have 
the  old  woman  come  down,  who  behaves  extremely  well 
and  is  become  quite  attached  to  Miss  Connor.  Some- 
times we  sing  to  her  till  the  poor  thing  sheds  tears,  and 
we  are  obliged  to  leave  off.  I  am  glad  I  have  got  over 
the  horror  I  once  felt  in  her  presence,  because  it  is  in 
my  power,  the  short  time  I  am  here,  to  contribute  a 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  413 

little  to  her  comfort.  We  have  beautiful  walks  in  this 
neighbourhood,  which  Miss  Connor  and  I  enjoy,  and 
you,  dearest  Lady  Hamilton,  are  often  the  subject  of 
our  conversation.  I  live  in  the  pleasing  hope  of  see- 
ing you  once  more,  before  we  begin  our  journey,  which 
will  not  be  till  the  22nd  of  August.  But  possibly,  as 
you  are  so  well  and  happy,  you  may  prolong  your  stay 
at  Ramsgate.  I  was  delighted  at  the  account  Bowen 
gave  me  of  you.  I  made  him  talk  for  an  hour  about 
you,  and,  indeed,  to  do  him  justice,  he  seemed  as  fond 
of  the  subject  as  myself.  And  thank  you  for  the 
darling  pin-cushion,  which  is  treasured  up,  and  only 
taken  out  occasionally  to  be  kissed.  A  few  nights  ago 
I  had  an  alarming  attack  of  the  same  complaint  which 
was  very  near  killing  me  a  year  and  a  half  ago.  I 
fainted  away  and  terrified  them  all.  Eliza  declares 
she  began  to  consider  what  she  could  do  without  me. 
Thank  God,  and  my  father's  skill,  I  am  again  well. 
Pray  write  to  me;  if  it  is  but  such  a  little  scrap  as  I 
have  hitherto  had  from  you,  I  shall  be  content.  How 
often  we  long  to  have  a  peep  at  you.  .  .  .  Miss  Con- 
nor and  Eliza  desire  their  best  love  to  you,  as  would 
daddy,  were  he  at  home.  God  bless  you,  most  dear 
Lady  Hamilton.  .  .  ."  Eliza  Bolton,  who  at  Merton 
had  learned  music  from  Emma  and  Mrs.  Billington, 
also  reports  her  own  progress. 

Nor,  meanwhile,  in  Clarges  Street,  did  Emma  neg- 
lect the  interests  of  the  Boltons.  For  Tom,  she 
solicited  Nelson's  cautious  and  official  friend  George 
Rose,  already  busied  over  her  own  suit  with  the  new 
Ministry : — "  It  will  make  Nelson  happy,"  she  tells 
him;  "  I  hope  you  will  call  on  me  when  you  come  to 
town,  and  I  promise  you  not  to  bore  you  with  my  own 
claims,  for  if  those  that  have  power  will  not  do  me 
justice,  I  must  be  quiet.  And  in  revenge  to  them,  I 
can  say,  if  ever  I  am  a  Minister's  wife  again  with  the 


414  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

power  I  had  then,  why,  I  will  again  do  the  same  for 
my  country  as  I  did  before.  And  I  did  more  than  any 
Ambassador  ever  did,  though  their  pockets  were  filled 
with  secret  service  money,  and  poor  Sir  William  and 
myself  never  got  even  a  pat  on  the  back.  But  indeed 
the  cold-hearted  Grenville  was  in  then."  She  adds  that 
Pitt  would  do  her  justice  if  he  could  hear  her  story: 
she  calls  him  "  the  Nelson  of  Ministers." 

When  Emma  proposed  spending  the  ist  of  August 
with  the  Nelsons  at  Canterbury,  Nelson,  during  a  fresh 
scare  of  French  invasion,  evinced  playful  anxiety  at 
her  neighbourhood  to  the  French  coast.  But  the  ist 
of  August  was  always  her  fete.  She  begged  her  con- 
stant and  learned  ally,  Dr.  Fisher,  to  join  their  "  turtle 
and  venison."  "  I  wish,"  she  concludes,  "  you  would 
give  heed  unto  us,  and  hear  us,  and  let  our  prayers  pre- 
vail." Doubtless  the  long,  thin  beakers  and  pink  cham- 
pagne of  our  ancestors  were  brought  out  at  Canter- 
bury to  celebrate  the  anniversary  of  the  Nile,  while 
"  Reverend  Doctor  "  bowed  his  best,  and  Emma  raised 
the  glass  with  a  tirade  in  honour  of  the  distant  hero. 
It  was  not  the  French  fleet  that  interrupted  this  festiv- 
ity :  a  worse  epidemic  than  invasion  was  abroad — that 
of  smallpox.  Poor  little  Horatia  caught  the  disease, 
though  lightly,  and  Emma  was  in  great  distress.  Nel- 
son's anxiety  was  as  keen : — "  My  beloved,"  he  wrote, 
"  how  I  feel  for  your  situation  and  that  of  our  dear 
Horatia,  our  dear  child.  Unexampled  love  never,  I 
trust,  to  be  diminished,  never :  no,  even  death  with  all 
his  terrors  would  be  jubilant  compared  even  to  the 
thought.  I  wish  I  had  all  the  small-pox  for  her,  but 
I  know  the  fever  is  a  natural  consequence.  Give  Mrs. 
Gibson  a  guinea  for  me,  and  I  will  repay  you.  Dear 
wife,  good,  adorable  friend,  how  I  love  you,  and 
what  would  I  not  give  to  be  with  you  at  this  moment, 
for  I  am  for  ever  all  yours."  Relieved  by  better  ac- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  415 

counts,  he  sighed  for  long  years  of  undivided  union 
— "  the  thought  of  such  bliss  delights  me  " — "  we  shall 
not  want  with  prudence." 

Horatia  could  at  last  be  "  fixed  "  at  Merton,  to  his 
intense  delight,  though  she  was  not  definitely  installed 
there  till  about  May  of  the  next  year.  Nelson  now 
despatched  to  Emma  a  strange  announcement,  evi- 
dently designed  as  a  circular  note  of  explanation  for 
the  enlightenment  of  over-curious  acquaintances.  It 
bears  date  Victory,  August  13,  1804: — "  I  am  now  go- 
ing to  state  a  thing  to  you,  and  to  request  your  kind  as- 
sistance, which,  from  my  dear  Emma's  goodness  of 
heart,  I  am  sure  of  her  acquiescence  in.  Before  we 
left  Italy,  I  told  you  of  the  extraordinary  circumstance 
of  a  child  being  left  to  my  care  and  protection.  On 
your  first  coming  to  England,  I  presented  you  the  child, 
dear  Horatia.  You  became,  to  my  comfort,  attached 
to  it,  so  did  Sir  William,  thinking  her  the  finest  child 
he  had  ever  seen.  She  is  become  of  that  age  when 
it  is  necessary  to  remove  her  from  a  mere  nurse,  and 
to  think  of  educating  her.  Horatia  is  by  no  means 
destitute  of  a  fortune.  My  earnest  wish  is  that  you 
would  take  her  to  Merton,  and  if  Miss  Connor  will 
become  her  tutoress  under  your  eye,  I  shall  be  made 
happy.  I  will  allow  Miss  Connor  any  salary  you  may 
think  proper.  I  know  Charlotte  loves  the  child,  and 
therefore  at  Merton  she  will  imbibe  nothing  but  virtue, 
goodness,  and  elegance  of  manners,  with  a  good  educa- 
tion to  fit  her  to  move  in  that  sphere  of  life  which 
she  is  destined  to  move  in."  Not  long  afterwards  he 
added  that  his  dearest  wish  was  that  Horatio  Nelson 
when  he  grew  up,  "  if  he  behaves,"  should  wed  Horatia, 
and  thus  establish  his  posterity  on  Emma's  foundation 
as  well  as  his  brother's,  and  this  wish  he  embodied  in 
one  of  his  numerous  wills. 

In  these  mysteries  of  melodrama  it  is  impossible  not 


416  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

to  discern  Emma's  handiwork.  As  a  girl  she  had  de- 
voured romances  and  been  thrilled  by  the  strokes  and 
stratagems  of  the  theatre.  The  same  leaning  that  had 
prompted  the  secret  passage  episode  at  Naples, 
prompted  this  also;  and  from  her  Nelson  caught  the 
pleasures  of  mystification.  Nor  can  impartiality  ac- 
quit her  of  planting  some  of  her  relatives  on  Nelson's 
bounty.  Sarah  Connor's  salary  is  one  instance; 
Charles  Connor's  naval  cadetship  is  another.  At  this 
very  time  the  youth,  who  was  to  end  in  madness,  was 
discoursing  to  "  her  Ladyship "  of  Nelson's  "  un- 
bounded kindness."  It  is  true  that  the  unworthier 
members  of  this  family,  especially  Charles  and  Cecilia, 
took  advantage  of  Emma  to  the  close,  and  that  she  had 
to  support  all  of  them,  including  their  parents ;  but  it  is 
also  true  that  Nelson's  charities  temporarily  lightened 
her  burdens. 

Nelson  was  now  nearing  the  end  of  his  Mediter- 
ranean vigil.  The  King  and  Queen  of  Naples 
despaired  at  his  departure.  Acton,  in  disgrace,  had 
thoughts  of  taking  his  new  wife  to  England.  Nelson 
had  tarried  long  enough  in  the  scenes  of  his  memories. 
"  Nothing,  indeed,"  he  tells  his  "  dearest  Emma,"  "  can 
be  more  miserable  and  unhappy  than  her  poor  Nelson." 
From  February  19,  1805,  he  had  been  "  beating  "  from 
Malta  to  off  Palma,  where  he  was  now  anchored.  He 
could  not  help  himself;  none  in  the  fleet  could  "  feel  " 
what  he  did ;  and,  "  to  mend  his  fate,"  since  the  close 
of  November  all  his  letters  had  gone  astray,  and  he 
was  without  even  the  solace  of  news. 

And  yet  his  energy  was  never  more  indispensable 
than  at  this  moment.  The  French  strained  every  nerve 
to  meet  the  renewed  vigour  which  characterised  Pitt's 
brief  and  final  accession  to  power.  Directing  their 
fleet  to  the  West  Indies,  they  hoped  to  strike  Britain 
where  she  was  most  vulnerable,  her  colonies.  Eight 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  417 

months'  strenuous  activity  dejected  but  could  not  sub- 
jugate Nelson.  "  I  never  did,"  he  assured  Davison, 
"  or  ever  shall  desert  the  service  of  my  country,  but 
what  can  I  do  more  than  swim  till  I  drop?  If  I  take 
some  little  care  of  myself,  I  may  yet  live  fit  for  some 
good  service."  He  was  dying  to  catch  Villeneuve. 
Irritated  at  the  command  of  Sir  John  Orde,  destitute  of 
"  any  prize-money  worthy  of  the  name,"  he  could  still 
waft  his  thoughts  and  wishes  beyond  the  waves.  It 
was  not  only  each  movement  at  Merton  that  he  fol- 
lowed ;  he  cared  for  poor  blind  "  Mrs.  Nelson,"  while 
he  sat  beside  the  sick-bed  of  many  a  man  in  his  own 
fleet.  Nor  did  his  vigilance  concerning  each  veriest 
trifle  that  might  profit  his  country  ever  diminish. 
Scott's  descendants  still  cherish  the  two  black-leathered 
and  pocketed  armchairs,  ensconced  in  which,  night  by 
night,  Nelson  and  his  secretary  waded  through  the 
polyglot  correspondence,  and  those  "  interminable  pa- 
pers "  which  engrossed  him.  "  His  own  quickness," 
writes  one  of  the  latter's  grandsons,  "  in  detecting  the 
drift  of  an  author  was  perfectly  marvellous.  Two  or 
three  pages  of  a  pamphlet  were  generally  sufficient  to 
put  him  in  complete  possession  of  the  writer's  object, 
and  nothing  was  too  trivial  for  the  attention  of  this 
great  man's  mind  when  there  existed  a  possibility  of  its 
being  the  means  of  obtaining  information."  Nelson 
insisted  on  examining  every  document  seized  in  prize- 
ships,  and  so  tiring  proved  the  process  that  "  these 
chairs,  with  an  ottoman  that  fits  between  them,  formed, 
when  lashed  together,  a  couch  on  which  the  hero  often 
slept  those  brief  slumbers  for  which  he  was  remark- 
able." At  the  end  of  March  he  heard  that  the  French 
were  safe  in  port.  Within  three  days  his  fleet  was 
equipped  and  refreshed.  He  scoured  every  quarter, 
ransacked  every  corner,  to  sight  the  enemy — in  vain. 
Villeneuve  had  left  Toulon  to  form  his  junction  with 


418  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

the  Spaniards  and  effect  his  great  design ;  Orde  retired 
from  Cadiz,  where  the  junction  was  effected.  Nelson 
ground  his  teeth  and  cursed  his  luck.  By  mid-April 
the  French  were  reported  as  having  passed  Gibraltar 
with  their  colours  flying.  Nelson  chased  them  once 
again,  foul  winds  and  heavy  swells  hampering  his 
course.  "  Nothing,"  he  wrote,  "  can  be  more  un- 
fortunate than  we  are  in  our  winds.  But  God's  will 
be  done !  I  submit.  Human  exertions  are  absolutely 
unavailing.  What  man  can  do,  I  have  done."  Orde's 
remissness  in  taking  no  measures  for  ascertaining  their 
course  over-exasperated  Nelson.  At  last  he  heard  of 
their  East  Indiaward  direction.  Though  they  outnum- 
bered him  greatly  in  ships,  and  entirely  in  men,  he 
swore  that  he  would  track  them  "  even  to  the  Antip- 
odes." Though,  by  the  opening  of  May,  the  elements 
still  defied  him  off  Gibraltar,  and  the  linen  had  been 
actually  sent  on  shore  to  be  washed,  while  the  officers 
and  men  had  landed,  their  observant  commander  per- 
ceived some  indication  of  an  east  wind  within  twenty- 
four  hours.  Without  hesitation  he  took  the  risk  of  his 
weatherwise  observation.  "  Off  went  a  gun  from  the 
Victory,  and  up  went  the  Blue-peter."  The  crew  was 
recalled,  "  the  fleet  cleared  the  gut  of  Gibraltar,  and 
away  they  steered  for  the  West  Indies."  He  hurried 
with  unexampled  expedition  to  Martinique  and  Bar- 
badoes — thus  revisiting,  in  the  last  year  of  his  life,  the 
two  scenes  associated  respectively  with  his  love  and  his 
marriage.  By  the  West  Indies  he  was  hailed  as  a  de- 
liverer, and  it  was  their  joy  that  first  warned  the 
French  of  the  approach  of  the  sole  commander  whom 
they  dreaded.  Nelson  did  not  stay  even  to  water  his 
ships.  The  shrewd  Villeneuve,  who  had  once  escaped 
from  Egypt,  hastened  to  escape  once  more,  and  his 
superior  force  fled  like  a  hare  from  Nelson's  fury. 
And  Emma,  meanwhile,  was  in  an  agony  of  sus- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  419 

pense.  To  the  incessant  inquiries  of  Nelson's  sisters, 
she  could  give  no  answer,  for  she  could  glean  no  news. 
At  last  letters  arrived.  He  was  longing  to  fly  to 
"  dear,  dear  Merton."  He  dared  not  enclose  one  of 
his  "  little  letters,"  for  fear  of  "  sneaking  and  cut- 
ting," but  he  published  for  all  to  read  "  that  I  love 
you  beyond  any  woman  in  the  world,  and  next  our  dear 
Horatia."  As  for  her,  she  paid  visits.  She  threw  her- 
self into  London  distractions — again  she  sought  retire- 
ment. But  the  hard  fact  of  debt  stared  in  the  face 
of  all  her  emotions.  Just  before  her  return  to  Merton, 
her  mother  wrote  to  her :  "  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  see 
you  to-morrow,  and  I  think  you  quite  right  for  going 
into  the  country  to  keep  yourself  quiet  for  a  while;. 
My  dear  Emma,  Cribb  is  quite  distrest  for  money, 
would  be  glad  if  you  could  bring  him  the  £13  that  he 
paid  for  the  taxes,  to  pay  the  mowers.  My  dear 
Emma,  I  have  got  the  baker's  and  butcher's  bills  cast 
up;  they  come  to  one  hundred  pounds  seventeen  shil- 
lings. God  Almighty  bless  you,  my  dear  Emma,  and 
grant  us  good  news  from  our  dear  Lord.  My  dear 
Emma,  bring  me  a  bottle  of  ink  and  a  box  of  wafers. 
Sarah  Reynolds  thanks  you  for  your  goodness  to  in- 
vite her  to  Sadler's  Wells." 

While  Emma  lingered,  bathing  at  Southend,  Mrs. 
Tyson,  returning  from  a  visit  to  her  there,  described 
a  pleasant  day  spent  at  "  charming  Merton "  with 
"  dear  Mrs.  Cadogan  " :  "  She,  with  Miss  Lewold  " 
(Emma  always  left  her  mother  a  companion)  "  did  not 
forget  to  drink  my  Lord's  and  your  health.  Tom  Bol- 
ton  was  of  the  party.  We  left  them  six  o'clock,  horse- 
back, but,  alas!  I  am  got  so  weak  that  the  ride  is  too 
much  for  me.  ...  I  am,  my  dear  Lady  Hamilton, 
wishing  all  the  blessings  your  good  and  charming  dis- 
position should  have  in  this  life.  .  .  .  Your  Ladyship, 
I  beg,  will  pardon  this  and  please  give  it  to  Nancy. 

Memoirs — Vol.  14 — 14 


'420  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

...  I  will  be  much  obliged  to  look  for  a  pair  of  silk 
stockings  marked  H.S.  or  only  H.,  as  they  were  given 
me  at  Bath,  changed  in  the  wash.  .  .  .  She  has  been 
very  pert  about  them,  and  I  will  not  pay  her  till  I  hear 
from  you."  Nor  did  old  sailors  forget  to  show  Emma 
their  appreciation.  Captain  Langford  brought  back 
for  her  from  Africa  a  crown-bird  and  a  civet  cat,  which 
must  have  astonished  the  Mertonites. 

Far  removed  from  such  trivialities  Nelson  still  strug- 
gled to  come  up  with  that  fleeing  but  unconquered 
fleet.  Once  more  at  Cadiz  he  gained  fresh  advices :  it 
had  been  seen  off  Cape  Blanco.  He  rounded  Cape  Vin- 
cent, the  scene  of  his  earliest  triumphs.  Collingwood, 
steering  for  the  Straits'  mouth,  reported  Cape  Spartel 
in  sight;  but  still  no  French  squadron.  Anchored 
again  at  Gibraltar,  Nelson  could  descry  not  a  trace  of 
them.  He  went  ashore,  as  he  recounts,  for  the  first 
time  since  June  16,  1803,  and  although  it  was  "  two 
years  wanting  ten  days  "  since  he  had  set  foot  in  the 
Victory,  still  he  would  not  despair.  The  French 
destination  might  be  Newfoundland,  for  aught  he 
knew;  Ireland,  Martinique  again,  or  the  Levant;  each 
probability  had  its  chance.  He  searched  every  point 
of  the  compass.  He  inquired  of  Ireland.  He  secured 
Cadiz.  He  sailed  off  to  Tetuan.  He  reinforced  Corn- 
wallis,  lest  the  combined  ships  should  approach  Brest. 
At  last  he  heard  of  Sir  Robert  Calder's  brilliant  en- 
counter, but  problematic  victory,  sixty  leagues  west  of 
Cape  Finisterre.  Pleasure  mingled  with  disappoint- 
ment ;  at  least  and  at  last  he  was  free.  On  August  17 
he  rode  off  Portland,  at  noon  off  the  Isle  of  Wight.  He 
anchored  at  Spithead  on  the  following  morning  at  nine, 
and  with  a  crew  in  perfect  health,  despite  unfounded 
allegations  of  the  need  of  quarantine,  he  landed. 

All  his  family  were  gathered  at  Merton  with  Emma, 
who  had  sped  from  Southend  to  greet  him.  The  next 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  421 

day  saw  him  in  Emma's  and  Horatia's  arms.  This 
was  his  real  reward.  The  society  that  resented  his 
isolation  rushed  to  honour  him.  London  was  jubilant. 
Deputations  and  gratitude  poured  in  on  his  privacy. 
But,  rightly  or  wrongly,  Merton  was  his  Elysium,  and 
from  Merton  he  would  not  budge. 

"  Thank  God,"  wrote  her  lively  cousin  Sarah  to 
Emma  the  day  after  his  arrival,  "  he  is  safe  and  well. 
Cold  water  has  been  trickling  down  my  back  ever  since 
I  heard  he  was  arrived.  Oh !  say  how  he  looks,  and 
talks,  and  eats,  and  sleeps.  Never  was  there  a  man 
come  back  so  enthusiastically  revered.  Look  at  the 
ideas  that  pervade  the  mind  of  his  fellow-citizens  in 
this  morning's  post.  Timid  spinsters  and  widows  are 
terrified  at  his  foot  being  on  shore;  yet  this  is  the 
man  who  is  to  have  a  Sir  R.  Calder  and  a  Sir  J.  Orde 
sent  to  intercept  his  well-earned  advantages.  I  hope 
he  may  never  quit  his  own  house  again.  This  was  my 
thundering  reply  last  night  to  a  set  of  cowardly  women. 
I  have  lashed  Pitt  ...  to  his  idolatrice  brawler.  I 
send  you  her  letter.  The  public  are  indignant  at  the 
manner  Lord  Nelson  has  been  treated."  Outside  his 
family  he  received  friends  like  the  Perrys.  With  re- 
luctance he  acceded  to  the  Prince's  command  that  he 
would  give  him  audience  before  he  went. 

He  had  not  long  to  remain.  On  September  13,  little 
more  than  three  weeks  after  his  arrival,  the  Victory 
was  at  Spithead  once  more,  preparing  to  receive  him. 
Villeneuve  must  be  found,  and  the  sole  hope  of  the 
French  at  sea  shattered.  Nelson's  "  band  of  broth- 
ers "  were  to  welcome  the  last  trial  of  the  magic  "  Nel- 
son touch."  Emma 'is  said  to  have  chimed  with,  and 
spurred  his  resolve  for,  this  final  charge.  Harrison's 
recital  of  this  story  has  been  doubted,  but  she  herself 
repeated  it  to  Rose  at  a  moment,  and  in  a  passage, 
that  lend  likelihood  to  sincerity.  Moreover,  in  a  strik- 


422  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

ing  letter  of  self -vindication  to  Mr.  A.  J.  Scott,  Nel- 
son's trusted  intimate,  she  thus  delivered  herself  in  the 
following  year,  assuming  his  own  knowledge  of  the 
fact : — "  Did  I  ever  keep  him  at  home,  did  I  not  share 
in  his  glory?  Even  this  last  fatal  victory,  it  was  I 
bid  him  go  forth.  Did  he  not  pat  me  on  the  back,  call 
me  brave  Emma,  and  said,  '  If  there  were  more  Emmas 
there  would  be  more  Nelsons.' ' 

Together  with  his  assembled  relatives  she  shrank 
from  bidding  him  adieu  on  board.  One  by  one  all  but 
the  Matchams  departed.  On  that  Friday  night  of 
early  autumn,  at  half-past  ten,  the  postchaise  drew  up, 
as  he  tore  himself  from  the  last  embraces  of  Emma 
and  Horatia,  in  whose  bedroom  he  had  knelt  down  and 
solemnly  invoked  a  blessing.  George  Matcham  went 
out  to  see  him  off,  and  his  final  words  were  a  proffer 
of  service  to  his  brother-in-law.  At  six  next  morn- 
ing he  sent  his  "  God  protect  you  and  my  dear  Hora- 
tia "  from  the  George  at  Portsmouth. 

A  familiar  and  pathetic  excerpt  from  his  letter-book 
bears  repetition: — 

Friday,  Sept.  13,  1805. 

"  Friday  night,  at  half -past  ten,  drove  from  dear, 
dear  Merton,  where  I  left  all  that  I  hold  dear  in  this 
world,  to  go  to  serve  my  King  and  country.  May  the 
great  God  whom  I  adore  enable  me  to  fulfil  the  expec- 
tations of  my  country,  and  if  it  is  His  good  pleasure 
that  I  should  return,  my  thanks  will  never  cease  being 
offered  up  to  the  throne  of  His  mercy.  If  it  is  His 
good  providence  to  cut  short  my  days  upon  earth,  I 
bow  with  the  greatest  submission,  relying  that  He  will 
protect  those  so  dear  to  me  that  I  may  leave  behind. 
His  will  be  done.  Amen.  Amen.  Amen." 

The  humility  of  true  greatness  rings  through  this 
valediction. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  423 

He  seems  to  have  felt  some  foreboding — and  his 
last  letters  confirm  it — that  he  would  never  return. 
During  the  two  days  on  board  before  he  weighed  an- 
chor, each  moment  that  could  be  spared  from  business 
was  devoted  to  the  future  of  Emma  and  his  child.  His 
thoughts  travelled  in  his  letters  to  every  cranny  of  his 
homestead.  A  few  hours  after  he  stepped  on  deck, 
he  asked  Rose,  come  from  Cuffnells,  to  bring  Canning 
with  him  to  dinner.  Canning  was  not  present  when 
Nelson  engaged  his  friend  in  a  parting  conversation 
about  Bolton's  business,  and  also  the  prosecution  of 
Emma's  claims,  though  she  maintained  eight  years 
later  that  she  understood  them  to  have  given  their  joint 
assurances  on  her  behalf.  He  purposely  embarked 
from  the  bathing-machine  beach  to  elude  the  populace. 
To  Davison,  in  sad  privacy,  while  he  was  off  Portland, 
he  gave  his  last  mandate  for  mother  and  child.  He 
twice  answered  Emma's  last  heart-broken  notes. 
"  With  God's  blessing  we  shall  meet  again.  Kiss  dear 
Horatia  a  thousand  times." — "  I  cannot  even  read  your 
letter.  We  have  fair  wind  and  God  will,  I  hope,  soon 
grant  us  a  happy  meeting.  We  go  too  swift  for  the 
boat.  May  Heaven  bless  you  and  Horatia,  with  all 
those  who  hold  us  dear  to  them.  For  a  short  time, 
farewell."  The  next  day,  off  Plymouth,  he  entreated 
her  to  "  cheer  up,"  they  would  look  forward  to  many, 
many  happy  years,"  surrounded  by  their  "  children's 
children."  There  are  tears,  and  a  sense  of  tragedy, 
in  all  these  voices. 

Passing  the  Scilly  Islands,  three  days  later,  he  again 
conveyed  his  blessings  to  her  and  to  Horatia.  At  that 
very  time  Miss  Connor  wrote  prettily  of  her  young 
charge  to  Charlotte,  whose  family  the  mother  had 
joined  at  Canterbury.  "  She  is  looking  very  well  in- 
deed, and  is  to  me  a  delightful  companion.  We  read 
about  twenty  times  a  day,  as  I  do  not  wish  to  confine 


424  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

her  long  at  a  time.  .  .  .  We  bought  some  shoes  and 
stockings  and  a  hat  for  the  doll.  She  is  uncommonly 
quick.  ...  I  told  her  she  was  invited  to  see  a  ship 
launched;  every  morning  she  asks  if  it  is  to  be  to-day, 
and  wanted  to  know  if  there  will  be  any  firing  of 
guns."  How  these  trifles  contrast  with  the  coming 
doom,  and  lend  a  silver  lining  to  the  dark  cloud  hang- 
ing over  the  sailor-father !  Poor  child,  there  was  soon 
to  be  firing  of  guns  enough,  and  a  great  soul,  as  well 
as  a  ship,  was  to  be  launched  on  a  wider  ocean.  Emma 
forwarded  this  letter  to  Nelson : — "  I  also  had  one 
from  my  mother,  who  doats  on  her,  and  says  that  she 
could  not  live  without  her.  What  a  blessing  for  her 
parents  to  have  such  a  child,  so  sweet ;  altho'  young,  so 
amiable.  .  .  .  My  dear  girl  writes  every  day  in  Miss 
Connor's  letter,  and  I  am  so  pleased  with  her.  My 
heart  is  broke  away  from  her,  but  I  have  now  had  her 
so  long  at  Merton,  that  my  heart  cannot  bear  to  be 
without  her.  You  will  be  even  fonder  of  her  when  you 
return.  She  says,  '  I  love  my  dear,  dear  Godpapa,  but 
Mrs.  Gibson  told  me  he  killed  all  the  people,  and  I  was 
afraid.'  Dearest  angel  she  is!  Oh!  Nelson,  how  I 
love  her,  but  how  do  I  idolise  you, — the  dearest  hus- 
band of  my  heart,  you  are  all  in  this  world  to  your 
Emma.  May  God  send  you  victory,  and  home  to  your 
Emma,  Horatia,  and  paradise  Merton,  for  when  you 
are  there,  it  will  be  paradise.  My  own  Nelson,  may 
God  preserve  you  for  the  sake  of  your  affectionate 
Emma."  * 


1  Morrison  MS.  844,  845,  October  4  and  8  respectively.  These 
two  letters  only  escaped  destruction  because  Nelson  never  lived 
to  receive  them.  In  the  last  Emma  also  says :  "  .  .  .  She  now 
reads  very  well,  and  is  learning  her  notes,  and  French  and 
Italian.  The  other  day  she  said  at  table,  '  Mrs.  Cadoging,  I 
wonder  Julia  [a  servant]  did  not  run  out  of  the  church  when 
she  went  to  be  married,  for  I  should,  seeing  my  squinting  hus- 
band come  in,  for  .  .  .  how  ugly  he  is,  and  how  he  looks 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  425 

It  was  not  for  that  paradise  that  Nelson  was  re- 
served. 

There  is  no  need  to  recount  the  glories  of  Trafalgar. 
Let  more  competent  pens  than  mine  re-describe  the 
strategy  of  the  only  action  in  which  Nelson  ever  ap- 
peared without  his  sword.  When  he  explained  to  the 
officers  "  the  Nelson  touch"  "  it  was  like  an  electric 
shock.  Some  shed  tears,  all  approved  " ;  "  it  was  new, 
it  was  singular,  it  was  simple." — •"  And  from  Admirals 
downwards,  it  was  repeated — it  must  succeed  if  ever 
they  will  allow  us  to  get  at  them."  Again  he  had  been 
stinted  in  battleships. 

Nelson  ascended  the  poop  to  view  both  lines  of  those 
great  ships.  He  directed  the  removal  of  the  fixtures 
from  his  cabin,  and  when  the  turn  came  for  Emma's 
portrait,  "  Take  care  of  my  Guardian  Angel,"  he  ex- 
claimed. In  that  cabin  he  spent  his  last  minutes  of  re- 
tirement in  a  prayer  committed  to  his  note-book. 
"  May  the  great  God  whom  I  worship,  grant  to  my 
country,  and  for  the  benefit  of  Europe  in  general,  a 
great  and  glorious  victory ;  and  may  no  misconduct  in 
any  one  tarnish  it,  and  may  humanity  after  victory  be 
the  predominant  feature  in  the  British  fleet !  For  my- 
self individually,  I  commit  my  life  to  Him  that  made 
me,  and  may  His  blessing  alight  on  my  endeavours  for 
serving  my  country  faithfully.  To  Him  I  resign  my- 
self, and  the  just  cause  which  is  entrusted  to  me  to  de- 
fend. Amen.  Amen.  Amen." 

And  then  he  entrusted  to  his  diary  that  memorable 
last  codicil,  witnessed  by  Blackwood  and  Hardy,  re- 
counting his  Emma's  unrewarded  services,  and  com- 
mending her  and  Horatia  (whom  he  now  desired  to 

cross-eyed ;  why,  as  my  lady  says,  "  he  looks  two  ways  for 
Sunday." '  Now  Julia's  husband  is  the  ugliest  man  you  ever 
saw ;  but  how  that  little  thing  cou'd  observe  him ;  but  she  is 
clever,  is  she  not,  Nelson  ?  " 


426  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

bear  the  name  of  "  Nelson  "  only  *)  to  the  generosity 
of  his  King  and  country : — "  These  are  the  only  favours 
I  ask  of  my  King  and  Country  at  this  moment  when  I 
am  going  to  fight  their  battle.  May  God  bless  my  King 
and  Country  and  all  those  I  hold  dear.  My  relations 
it  is  needless  to  mention;  they  will,  of  course,  be  amply 
provided  for."  On  his  desk  lay  open  that  fine  letter  to 
Emma,  the  simple  march  of  whose  cadences  always 
somehow  suggests  to  one  Turner's  picture  of  the 
femeraire : — 

"  My  dearest,  beloved  Emma,  the  dear  friend  of  my 
bosom,  the  signal  has  been  made  that  the  enemies'  com- 
bined fleet  is  coming  out  of  port.  May  the  God  of 
Battles  crown  my  endeavours  with  success ;  at  all  events 
I  will  take  care  that  my  name  shall  ever  be  most  clear 
to  you  and  Horatia,  both  of  whom  I  love  as  much  as 
my  own  life;  and  as  my  last  writing  before  the  battle 
will  be  to  you,  so  I  hope  in  God  that  I  shall  live  to 
finish  my  letter  after  the  battle.  May  Heaven  bless 
you  prays  your  Nelson  and  Bronte.  .  .  ."  2 

As  in  a  vision,  one  seems  to  behold  that  huge  Santis- 
sima  Trinidad,  that  mighty  Bucentaur,  that  fatal  Re- 
doubtable, the  transmission  of  that  imperishable 
"  Duty  "  signal ;  the  Victory  nigh  noon,  hard  by  the 
enemy's  van.  One  hears  the  awful  broadside — the 
"  warm  work  "  which  rends  the  buckle  from  Hardy's 
shoe — Nelson's  words  of  daring  and  comfort.  One 
heeds  his  acts  of  care  for  others  and  carelessness  for 
himself. 

1  The  King  duly  gave  his  licence  to  that  effect.    Morrison  MS. 

*  October  19..  The  original  was  prominent  in  1905  at  the 
British  Museum  with  Emma's  indorsement : — "  This  letter  was 
found  open  on  His  desk,  and  brought  to  Lady  Hamilton  by 
Captain  Hardy.  '  Oh,  miserable,  wretched  Emma !  Oh,  glorious 
and  happy  Nelson ! ' ' 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  427 

His  four  stars  singled  him  out  as  a  target  for  the 
deathblow  that  "  broke  his  back  "  fifteen  minutes  after- 
wards. He  fell  prone  on  the  deck,  where  Hardy  raised 
him : — "  They  have  done  for  me  at  last,  Hardy."  And 
then,  as  he  lies  below,  in  face  of  death — "  Doctor,  I  told 
you  so ;  doctor,  I  am  gone  " ;  the  whisper  follows,  "  I 
have  to  leave  Lady  Hamilton  and  my  adopted  daughter 
Horatia  as  a  legacy  to  my  country."  He  feels  "  a  gush 
of  blood  every  minute  within  his  breast."  His 
thoughts  are  still  for  his  officers  and  crew.  "  How 
goes  the  day  with  us,  Hardy?  "  His  day  is  over.  "  I 
am  a  dead  man  .  .  .  come  nearer  to  me."  Over  his 
filming  eyes,  assured  of  conquest,1  hover  but  two  pres- 
ences, but  one  place.  "  Come  nearer  to  me.  Pray 
let  my  dear  Lady  Hamilton  have  my  hair,  and  all  other 
things  belonging  to  me."  And  next,  raising  himself  in 
pain,  "  Anchor,  Hardy,  anchor !  "  Not  Collingwood 
but  Hardy  shall  give  the  command;  "  for,  if  I  live,  I. 
anchor." — "  Take  care  of  my  poor  Lady  Hamilton, 
Hardy.  Kiss  me,  Hardy."  2 — "  Now  I  am  satisfied." 
While  his  throat  is  parched  and  his  mouth  agasp  for 
air,  his  oppressed  breathing  falters  once  more  to  Scott : 
"  Remember  that  I  leave  Lady  Hamilton  and  my 
daughter  [now  there  is  no  "  adopted  "]  to  my  country." 
Amid  the  deafening  boom  of  guns,  and  all  the  chaos 
and  carnage  of  the  cockpit,  while  the  surgeon  quits  him 
for  five  minutes  only  on  his  errands  of  mercy,  alone, 
dazed,  cold,  yet  triumphant,  with  a  spirit  exulting  in 
self-sacrifice,  and  wavering  ere  its  thinnest  thread  be 

1  Scott's  account  (cf.  App.,  Part  II.  F.  (2))  brings  a  striking 
detail  into  prominence.  "  He  died,"  he  says,  "  as  the  battle 
finished,  and  his  last  effort  to  speak  was  made  at  the  moment  of 
joy  for  victory." 

1  Hardy,  in  a  letter  to  Scott  of  March  10,  1807,  protesting  his 
continued  esteem  for  Lady  Hamilton,  declares  that  Nelson's  last 
words  to  him  were,  "  Do  be  kind  to  poor  Lady  H."  Cf.  Life  of 
Rev.  Dr.  Scott  (1842),  p.  212. 


428  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

severed,  around  the  distant  dear  ones,  he  dies.  "  Thank 
God,"  he  "  has  done  his  duty  " !  Can  man  do  more, 
or  love  more,  than  to  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends? 

Bound  up  with  Britain,  the  son  who  saved,  ennobled, 
and  embodied  her,  rests  immortal.  Ministers,  who 
used  him  like  a  sucked  orange,  might  disregard  his 
latest  breath.  With  such  as  these  he  was  never  pop- 
ular. But  wherever  unselfishness,  and  valour,  and 
genius  dedicated  to  duty,  are  known  and  famed,  there 
will  he  be  remembered.  "  The  tomb  of  heroes  is  the 
Universe." 

Sad  and  slow  plodded  the  procession  of  fatal  vic- 
tory over  the  waters  homeward.  Long  before  the 
flagship  that  formed  Nelson's  hearse  arrived,  Scott,  his 
chaplain,  broke  the  news  to  Emma  at  Clarges  Street 
through  Mrs.  Cadogan : — "  Hasten  the  very  moment 
you  receive  this  to  dear  Lady  Hamilton,  and  prepare 
her  for  the  greatest  of  misfortunes.  .  .  .  The  friends 
of  my  beloved  are  for  ever  dear  to  me."  Nine  days 
elapsed  before  she  realised  the  worst.  She  was 
stunned  and  paralysed  by  the  blow.  For  many  weeks 
she  lay  prostrate  in  bed,  from  which  she  only  arose 
to  be  removed  to  Merton.  Her  nights  were  those  of 
sighs  and  memories ;  her  mother  tended  her,  wrote  for 
her,  managed  the  daily  tasks  that  seemed  so  far  away. 
Quenched  now  for  ever  was 

"The  light  that  shines  from  loving  eyes  upon 
Eyes  that  love  back,  till  they  can  see  no  more." 

And  when  at  length  she  revived,  her  first  thought  was 
to  beseech  the  protection  of  the  Government,  not  for 
herself,  but  for  the  Boltons.  If  George  Rose  could 
forward  Nelson's  wishes  for  them,  it  would  be  a  drop 
of  comfort  in  her  misery.  She  kept  all  Nelson's  let- 
ters— "  sacred,"  she  called  them — "  on  her  pillow." 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  429 

She  fingered  them  over  and  over  again.  Her  heart, 
she  told  Rose,  was  broken.  "  Life  to  me  now  is  not 
worth  having.  I  lived  but  for  him.  His  glory  I 
gloried  in;  it  was  my  pride  that  he  should  go  forth; 
and  this  fatal  and  last  time  he  went,  I  persuaded  him 
to  it.  But  I  cannot  go  on.  My  heart  and  head  are 
gone.  Only,  believe  me,  what  you  write  to  me  shall 
ever  be  attended  to."  Letters  purporting  to  be  Nel- 
son's regarding  his  last  wishes  had  leaked  out  in  the 
newspapers.  She  was  too  weak  to  "  war  with  vile 
editors."  "  Could  you  know  me,  you  would  not  think 
I  had  such  bad  policy  as  to  publish  anything  at  this 
moment.  My  mind  is  not  a  common  one,  and  having 
lived  as  confidante  and  friend  with  such  men  as  Sir 
William  Hamilton  and  dearest,  glorious  Nelson,  I  feel 
superior  to  vain,  tattling  woman."  She  was  desolate. 
She  had  lost  not  only  the  husband  of  her  heart  and 
the  mainstay  of  her  weakness,  but  herself — the  heroine 
of  a  hero.  She  was  "  the  same  Emma  "  no  longer, 
only  a  creature  of  the  past.  The  receptive  Muse  had 
now  no  source  of  inspiration  left,  nor  any  command- 
ing part  to  prompt  or  act.  Yet  her  old  leaven  was  still 
indomitable.  She  would  fight  and  struggle  for  her- 
self and  her  child  so  long  as  she  had  breath. 

Messages  of  sympathy  poured  in  from  every  quar- 
ter, but  she  would  not  be  comforted.  Among  others, 
Hayley,  writing  with  the  new  year,  and  before  the 
funeral,  entreated  her  to  make  "  affectionate  justice  to 
departed  excellence  a  source  of  the  purest  delight." 
He  rejoiced  in  the  idea  that  his  verses  had  ever  been  "  a 
source  of  good  "  to  her,  and  the  egotist  enclosed  some 
new  ones  of  consolation.  She  told  him  she  was  most 
unhappy.  "  No,"  she  "  must  not  be  so,"  added  the 
sententious  "  Hermit  "  ;  "  self-conquest  is  the  summit 
of  all  heroism."  While  Rose  and  Louis  importuned 
her  for  mementoes — and  Emma  parted  with  all  they 


430 

asked — the  Abbe  Campbell,  writing  amid  the  third 
overthrow  at  Naples,  was  more  delicate  and  sym- 
pathetic. His  "  heart  was  full  of  anguish  "  and  com- 
miseration. "  I  truly  pity  you  from  my  soul,  and  only 
wish  to  be  near  you,  to  participate  with  you  in  the 
agonies  of  your  heart,  and  mix  our  tears  together." 
Goldsmid  sent  philosophic  consolation,  and  tried  to  get 
her  an  allotment  in  the  new  loan.  Staunch  Lady  Betty 
Foster  and  Lady  Percival  were  also  among  her  con- 
solers, and  so  too  was  the  humbler  Mrs.  Lind.  The 
Duke  of  Clarence — Nelson's  Duke — inquired  after  her 
particularly.  And  later  Mrs.  Bolton  wrote : — "  For  a 
moment  I  wished  myself  with  you,  and  but  a  moment, 
for  I  cannot  think  of  Merton  without  a  broken  heart, 
even  now  can  scarcely  see  for  tears.  How  I  do  feel 
for  you  my  own  heart  can  tell;  but  I  beg  pardon  for 
mentioning  the  subject,  nor  would  it  have  been,  but 
that  I  well  know  your  thoughts  are  always  so.  My 
dear  Horatia,  give  my  kindest  love  to  her.  The  more 
I  think,  the  dearer  she  is  to  me." 

At  length  the  Victory  arrived  at  Spithead.  Hardy 
travelled  post-haste  with  his  dearest  friend's  note- 
books and  last  codicil  to  Rose  at  Cuffnells.  Black- 
wood  assured  Emma  that  he  would  deliver  none  of 
them  to  any  person  until  he  had  seen  her;  all  her 
wishes  should  be  consulted.  Scott  wrote  daily  to  her 
all  December,  as  he  kept  watch  over  the  precious  re- 
mains of  the  man  whom  he  worshipped.  He  took 
lodgings  at  Greenwich,  where  they  now  reposed. 
Rooted  to  the  spot,  throughout  his  solitary  vigil  he  was 
ever  inquiring  after  Emma,  whom  Tyson  alone  had 
seen.  From  the  Board  Room  of  Greenwich  Hospital 
the  body  was  deposited  in  the  Painted  Chamber.  It 
was  the  saddest  Christmas  that  England  had  known 
for  centuries.  The  very  beggars,  Scott  wrote  to 
Emma,  leave  their  stands,  neglect  the  passing  crowd, 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  431 

and  pay  tribute  to  his  memory  by  a  look.  "  Many  " 
did  he  see,  "  tattered  and  on  crutches,  shaking  their 
heads  with  plain  signs  of  sorrow."  The  Earl  had 
been  there  with  young  Horace,  who  shed  tears: — 
"  Every  thought  and  word  I  have  is  about  your  dear 
Nelson.  Here  lies .  Bayard,  but  Bayard  victorious. 
...  So  help  me  God,  I  think  he  was  a  true  knight 
and  worthy  the  age  of  chivalry.  One  may  say,  lui 
meme  fait  le  siecle — for  where  shall  we  see  another?  " 
In  all  things  she  might  command  him;  he  only  wished 
for  her  approval.  He  could  not  tear  himself  away;  he 
was  rowed  in  the  same  barge  that  bore  the  hero's 
Orient-made  coffin  to  the  Admiralty.  He  watched  by 
it  there,  and  thence  attended  it  to  St.  Paul's.  He  bit- 
terly resented  being  parted  from  it  by  his  place,  next 
day,  in  the  procession.  "  I  honour  your  feelings,"  he 
exclaimed  in  the  tumult  of  grief,  "  and  I  respect  you, 
dear  Lady  Hamilton,  for  ever." 

Who  can  forget  the  scenes  of  that  dismal  triumph  of 
January  the  loth?  Not  a  shop  open;  not  a  window 
untenanted  by  silent  grief.  The  long  array  of  rank 
and  dignity  wends  its  funeral  march  with  solemn  pace. 
But  near  the  catafalque  draped  with  emblems  and 
fronted  with  the  Victory's  figurehead,  are  ranged  the 
weather-beaten  sailors  who  would  have  died  to  save 
him. 

Fashion  and  officialdom,  as  distasteful  to  Nelson  liv- 
ing as  he  was  to  them,  press  to  figure  in  the  pomp 
which  celebrated  the  man  at  whom  they  sometimes 
jeered,  and  whom  they  often  thwarted  and  sought  to 
supersede.  Professed  and  unfeigned  sorrow  meet  in 
his  obsequies. 

Every  order  of  the  State  is  represented.  Yet  as 
the  deep-toned  anthem — half -marred  at  first — swells 
through  the  hushed  cathedral,  two  forms  are  missing 
— that  of  the  woman  whom  certainly  he  would  never 


432  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

have  forsworn  had  her  wifehood  ever  meant  real  af- 
fection, and  that  of  the  other  woman  who  beyond 
measure  had  loved  and  lost  him.  Can  one  doubt  but 
that,  when  all  was  over,  when  form  and  ceremony 
were  dispersed,  Emma  stood  there,  silent,  their  child's 
hand  clasped  in  hers,  and  shed  her  bitter  tears  beside 
his  wreaths  of  laurel,  into  his  half-closed  grave? 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE    IMPORTUNATE    WIDOW    IN    LIQUIDATION 

February,  1806 — July,  1814 

WHILE  the  nation  was  to  vote  £90,000  and 
£5000  a  year  for  the  earldom  of  the  clergy- 
man whose  brother  died  only  a  Viscount  and 
Vice- Admiral,  in  receipt  of  an  annual  grant  not  ex- 
ceeding £2000;  while  Lady  Nelson,  soon  to  wrangle 
over  the  will,  received  that  same  annuity,  not  only  were 
Emma's  claims  disregarded,  but  the  payment  of  Nel- 
son's bequest  to  her  depended  on  a  fluctuating  rental. 
She  retired  for  a  space  to  Richmond,  and  at  once 
begged  Sir  R.  Barclay  to  be  one  of  a  committee  fof 
arranging  her  affairs  and  disposing  of  Merton.  Not 
apparently  until  next  November  did  she  address  Earl 
Nelson,  urging  him  in  the  strongest  terms,  as  his 
brother's  executor,  to  legalise  Nelson's  last  codicil ;  and 
nearly  a  year  after  he  had  received  the  pocket-book 
containing  it  from  Hardy,  he  returned  her  a  civil  and 
friendly  answer.  Her  finances  were  now  more  strait- 
ened than  has  been  supposed.  Her  income  from  all 
sources  (including  Horatia's  £200  a  year)  has  been 
estimated  as  over  some  £2000.  This  estimate  counts 
Hamilton's  and  Nelson's  annuities,  of  £800  and  £500 
respectively,  as  if  they  were  paid  free  of  property-tax, 
her  Piccadilly  furniture  as  realised  and  invested  intact 
at  five  per  cent.,  together  with  Nelson's  £2000  legacy, 
and  Merton  as  rentable  at  £500  a  year.  The  tax 
alone,  however,  seems  to  have  been  some  ten  per  cent., 

433 


434  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

the  furniture  should  surely  be  reckoned  at  half-price, 
Merton  was  unlet,  and  with  difficulty  sold  at  last, 
while  large  inroads  had  been  made  by  debt  and  inter- 
rupted Merton  improvements.  Her  available  capital 
must  have  been  small.  Her  net  income  may  be  taken 
as  under  some  £1200,  apart  from  Nelson's  annuity 
payable  half-yearly  in  advance.  Had  this  been  so 
paid  regularly  from  the  first,  another  £450,  after  de- 
ducting property-tax,  would  have  been  hers.  But  I 
have  discovered  that  Earl  Nelson,  on  the  excuse  that 
the  money  he  actually  received  from  the  Bronte  estate 
up  to  1806  was  for  arrears  of  rent  accrued  due  before 
Nelson's  death,  never  apparently  allowed  her  a  penny 
until  1808,  and  then,  after  consulting  counsel,  haggled 
over  the  payment  in  advance  directed  by  the  codicil, 
and  in  fact  never  paid  her  annuity  in  advance  until 
1814.  The  receipt  for  the  first  payment  in  advance 
still  exists.  This  surely  puts  a  somewhat  different 
complexion  on  her  "  extravagance,"  since  a  year's  de- 
lay in  the  receipt  of  income  by  one  already  encumbered 
would  prove  a  dead  weight.  Imprudent  and  improvi- 
dent she  continued;  embarrassed  by  anticipated  ex- 
pectations, eager,  indeed,  to  compound  with  creditors 
she  became  much  sooner  than  has  hitherto  been 
imagined.  She  remained  absolutely  faithful  to  Hora- 
tia's  trust  up  to  the  miserable  end.  Within  three  years 
from  Nelson's  death  Emma  and  Horatia  were  to  be- 
come wanderers  from  house  to  house;  treasure  after 
treasure  was  afterwards  to  be  parted  with  or  dis- 
trained upon;  and  the  Earl,  who  had  flattered  and 
courted  Emma  in  her  heyday,  and  still  protested  his 
willingness  to  serve  her,  and  his  hopes  that  Govern- 
ment would  yield  her  "  a  comfortable  pension,"  had 
joined  the  fair-weather  acquaintances  who  left  her  and 
her  daughter  in  the  ditch.  On  the  income,  even  apart 
from  her  variable  annuity  and  the  furniture  proceeds, 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  435 

she  might  have  been  comfortable,  if  she  had  been  con- 
tent to  retire  at  once  into  decent  obscurity.  She  could 
not  bring  herself  to  forfeit  the  flatteries  of  worthless 
pensioners  and  cringing  tradesmen;  and,  moreover,  I 
cannot  help  suspecting  that  Nurse  Gibson  may  not  have 
rested  satisfied  with  the  occasional  extra  guineas  be- 
stowed on  her,  and  that  whether  by  her  or  by  servants 
who  had  guessed  the  secret  of  Horatia's  birth,  con- 
tinual hush-money  may  possibly  have  been  extorted. 

From  December  6,  1805,  when  he  received  his 
brother's  "  pocket-book  "  or  "  memorandum-book  " 
(in  the  letters  it  is  named  both  ways)  from  Hardy,  the 
new  Earl  held  in  his  hands  the  "  codicil "  on  which 
hung  Emma's  fate  and  Horatia's. 

Only  once  do  Earl  Nelson's  papers  cast  direct  light 
on  its  adventures,  but  two  of  them  about  his  wishes 
for  the  national  vote,  hint  his  attitude,  though  I  think 
that  she  misconstrued  and  exaggerated  its  motives. 

From  December  6  to  December  12  it  seems  to  have 
been  kept  in  his  own  possession.  He  then  took  it  to 
Lady  Hamilton's  friend,  Sir  William  Scott,  at  Somer- 
set House,  where  she  was  led  by  him  to  believe  that  its 
formal  registration  with  Nelson's  will  was  in  favour- 
able process.  Before  Pitt's  death  in  the  ensuing  Janu- 
ary it  was  determined  that  the  memorandum-book 
should  be  sent  to  the  Premier.  Pitt  died  at  an  un- 
fortunate moment,  and  Grenville  became  Prime  Min- 
ister. After  consultation  with  persons  of  consequence, 
the  Earl  resolved  in  February  to  hand  it  over  to  Lord 
Grenville,  and  in  Grenville's  keeping  it  actually  re- 
mained till  so  late  as  May  30,  1806.  If  even,  as  is 
possible,  the  "  pocket-book  "  and  the  "  memorandum- 
book  "  mean  two  separate  things,  and  what  Grenville 
retained  was  only  the  latter,  referring  to  the  "  codicil  " 
in  the  first,  still  the  undue  delay  was  no  less  shabby; 
and  Nelson's  sisters  agreed  with  Emma,  whose  warm 


436  EtyMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

adherents  {hey  remained,  in  so  entitling  it.  Grenville 
was  the  last  person  in  the  world  to  act  favourably 
towards  Emma,  but  of  course  it  was  for  him  to  decide 
from  what  particular  source,  if  any,  Government 
could  satisfy  Nelson's  petition. 

]Jp  to  February  23,  1806,  the  Earl's  letters  were 
more  than  friendly,  and  even  many  years  afterwards 
they  professed  goodwill  and  inclination  to  forwarci 
her  claims  for  a  pension,  but  in  the  interval  a  quarrel 
ensued. 

Emma  subsequently  declared  that,  after  so  long 
withholding  the  pocket-book,  the  Earl,  as  her  own 
guest  at  |ier  own  table,  tossed  it  back  to  her  "  with  a 
coarse  expression."  She  then  registered  the  codicil 
herself.  She  added  that  the  reason  for  its  detention 
was  that  the  Earl  desired  nothing  to  be  done  until  he 
was  positive  of  the  national  grant  to  him  and  his 
family. 

For  such  meanness  I  can  see  no  sufficient  reason. 
To  put  his  motives  at  the  lowest,  self-interest  would 
tempt  him  to  fprward  Emma's  claims  to  some  kind  of 
Government  pension.  But  I  do  think  that  his  course 
was  ruled  solely  by  a  wish  for  his  own  safe  self-ad- 
vantage. He  did  qot  choose  to  risk  offending  Gren- 
ville. The  codicil  was  not  proved  till  July  4. 

Earl  Nelson  certainly  never  erred  on  the  side  of  gen- 
erosity. Despite  his  assiduous  court  to  Emma  during 
Nelson's  lifetime,  and  his  present  amicable  professions, 
he  himself,  as  executor,  went  ferreting  for  papers  at 
that  Merton  where  he  had  so  often  found  a  home,  ancj 
whose  hospitality  his  wife  and  children  still  continued 
gratefully  to  enjoy;  though  he  was  probably  angered 
when  the  shrewd  Mrs.  Cadogan  proved  his  match 
there  and  worsted  him.  With  reluctance,  and  "  with 
a  bleeding  heart,"  he  conceded  Emma's  "  right  "  to  the 
"  precious  possession  "  of  the  hero's  coat,  as  the  docu- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  437 

ment  concerning  its  surrender,  in  his  wife's  handwrit- 
ing, still  attests.  In  the  future,  only  two  years  after 
declaring,  "  No  one  can  wish  her  better  than  I  do,"  he 
was  to  begrudge  one  halfpenny  of  the  expenses  after 
her  death.  Only  a  few  months  before  it,  his  behaviour 
caused  her  to  exclaim  in  a  letter  which  has  only  this 
year  seen  the  light,  and  which  is  one  of  the  most  piteous 
yet  least  complaining  that  she  ever  wrote,  "  He  has 
never  given  the  dear  Horatia  a  frock  or  a  sixpence." 
He  squabbled  over  Clarke  and  M' Arthur's  Life  of  his 
brother.  And  long  after  Emma  lay  mouldering  in  a 
nameless  grave,  he  declined  to  put  down  his  name  for 
the  book  of  a  brother  clergyman,  on  the  ground  that 
for  books  he  had  long  ceased  to  subscribe.  If  Emma 
rasped  him  by  overbearing  defiance  (and  she  never  set 
herself  to  conciliation),  it  would  excuse  but  not  justify 
him,  since  Horatia's  prospects  were  as  much  concerned 
as  Emma's  in  the  fulfilment  of  the  last  request  of  the 
departed  brother,  to  whom  he  and  his  owed  absolutely 
everything. 

The  worst  was  yet  far  distant.  But  harassing 
vexations  already  began  to  cluster  round  the  unhappy 
woman,  who  was  denied  her  demands  by  ministers 
alleging  as  impediments  long  lapse  of  time  and  the  in- 
applicability of  the  Secret  Service  Fund,  though  Rose 
and  Canning  afterwards  acknowledged  them  to  be  just. 
Pitt's  death  with  the  dawning  year  rebuffed  anew,  as 
we  have  seen,  the  main  hope  of  this  unfortunate  and 
importunate  widow.  Hidden  briars  beset  her  path 
also.  Her  once  obsequious  creditors  already  clamoured, 
and  were  only  staved  off  temporarily  by  the  delusive 
promises  of  Nelson's  will.  For  a  time  one  at  least  of 
the  Connors  x  caused  her  secret  and  serious  uneasiness 

1  Ann,  who,  with  the  touch  of  madness  peculiar  to  the  whole 
family,  and  at  this  time  dangerous  in  Charles,  associated  herself 
now  with  Emma  "  Carew,"  whose  pseudonym  she  took,  as  Lady 


438  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

by  ingratitude  and  slander;  while  the  whole  of  this 
extravagant  family  preyed  on  and  "  almost  ruined  " 
her.  But,  worse  than  all,  the  insinuations  of  her 
enemies  began  at  length  to  find  a  loud  and  unchecked 
outlet.  "  How  hard  it  is,"  she  wrote  of  her  de- 
tractors, during  a  visit  to  Nelson's  relations,  in  a  let- 
ter of  September  7,  1806,  to  her  firm  ally  the  departed 
hero's  friend  and  chaplain,  "  how  cruel  their  treatment 
to  me  and  to  Lord  Nelson!  That  angel's  last  wishes 
all  neglected,  not  to  speak  of  the  fraud  that  was  acted 
to  keep  back  the  codicil.  ...  It  seems  that  those  that 
truly  loved  him  are  to  be  victims  to  hatred,  jealousy, 
and  spite.  .  .  .  We  have,  and  had,  what  they  that  per- 
secute us  never  had,  his  unbounded  love  and  esteem, 
his  confidence  and  affection.  ...  If  I  had  any  influ- 
ence over  him,  I  used  it  for  the  good  of  my  country. 
...  I  have  got  all  his  letters,  and  near  eight  hundred 
of  the  Queen  of  Naples'  letters,  to  show  what  I  did 

Hamilton's  daughter.  "  How  shocked  and  surprised  I  was,  my 
dear  friend,"  writes  Mrs.  Bolton.  "  Poor,  wretched  girl,  what 
will  become  of  her?  What  could  possess  her  to  circulate  such 
things?  But  I  do  not  agree  with  you  in  thinking  that  she  ought 
to  have  been  told  before,  nor  do  I  think  anything  more  ought 
to  have  been  said  than  to  set  her  right.  ...  I  am  sure  I 
would  say  and  do  everything  to  please  and  nothing  to  fret." 
— Morrison  MS.  896,  Friday,  October  n,  1806.  In  her  "will" 
of  1808  Emma  records : — "  I  declare  before  God,  and  as  I  hope 
to  see  Nelson  in  heaven,  that  Ann  Connor,  who  goes  by  the 
name  of  Carew  and  tells  many  falsehoods,  that  she  is  my 
daughter,  but  from  what  motive  I  know  not,  I  declare  that 
she  is  the  eldest  daughter  of  my  mother's  sister,  Sarah  Connor, 
and  that  I  have  the  mother  and  six  children  to  keep,  all  of 
them  except  two  having  turned  out  bad.  I  therefore  beg  of  my 
mother  to  be  kind  to  the  two  good  ones,  Sarah  and  Cecilia. 
This  family  having  by  their  extravagance  almost  ruined  me,  I 
have  nothing  to  leave  them,  and  I  pray  to  God  to  turn  Ann 
Connor  alias  Carew's  heart.  I  forgive  her,  but  as  there  is  a 
madness  in  the  Connor  family,  I  hope  it  is  only  the  effect  of 
this  disorder  that  may  have  induced  this  bad  young  woman  to 
have  persecuted  me  by  her  slander  and  falsehood." — Morrison 
MS.  959. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  439 

for  my  King  and  Country,  and  prettily  I  am  re- 
warded." For  glory  she  had  lived,  for  glory  she  had 
been  ready  to  die.  In  seeking  to  rob  her  of  glory  by 
refusing  to  acknowledge  her  services,  and  by  traducing 
her  motives  her  foes  had  wounded  her  where  she 
was  most  susceptible.  Pained  to  the  quick,  yet  as 
poignantly  pricked  to  defiance,  she  uplifted  her  voice 
and  spirit  above  and  against  theirs : — 

"  Psha !  I  am  above  them,  I  despise  them ;  for, 
thank  God,  I  feel  that  having  lived  with  honour  and 
glory,  glory  they  cannot  take  from  me.  I  despise 
them;  my  soul  is  above  them,  and  I  can  yet  make 
some  of  them  tremble  by  showing  how  he  despised 
them,  for  in  his  letters  to  me  he  thought  aloud."  The 
parasites  were  already  on  the  wing.  "  Look,"  she  re- 
sumed, "  at  Alexander  Davison,  courting  the  man  he 
despised,  and  neglecting  now  those  whose  feet  he  used 
to  lick.  Dirty,  vile  groveler."  She  meets  contumely 
with  contumely. 

But  her  warm  and  uninterrupted  intercourse  with 
Nelson's  sisters  and  their  families  proved  throughout  a 
ray  of  real  sunshine.  She  stayed  with  them — espe- 
cially the  Boltons — incessantly,  and  they  with  her  at 
Merton.  The  Countess  Nelson  herself,  even  after 
her  husband's  unfriendliness,  was  her  constant  visitor. 
Horatia  was  by  this  time  adopted  "  cousin "  to  all 
the  Bolton  and  Matcham  youngsters.  Nothing  could 
be  further  from  the  truth,  as  revealed  in  the  Morrison 
Autographs,  than  the  picture  of  Emma,  so  often  given, 
as  now  a  broken  "  adventuress."  She  led  the  life 
at  home  of  a  respected  lady,  befriended  by  Lady  Eliz- 
abeth Foster  and  Lady  Percival.  Lady  Abercorn 
begged  her  to  bring  Naldi  and  perform  for  the  poor 
Princess  of  Wales.  But  her  heart  stayed  with  Nel- 
son's kinsfolk,  with  Horatia's  relations.  She  stifled 
her  sorrow  for  a  while  with  the  young  people,  who 


440  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

still  found  Merton  a  home,  as  Mrs.  Bolton  tenderly  ac- 
knowledged. Charlotte  Nelson  was  still  an  inmate, 
and  Anne  and  Eliza  Bolton  were  repeatedly  under  its 
hospitable  roof.  Emma's  godchild  and  namesake, 
Lady  Bolton's  daughter,  was  devoted  to  Mrs.  Cadogan 
— they  all  "  loved  "  her,  she  called  her  "  grandmama." 
The  Cranwich  girls  reported  to  "  dearest  Lady  Ham- 
ilton "  all  their  tittle-tattle,  the  country  balls,  their  mu- 
sical progress,  the  matches,  the  prosperous  poultry, 
their  dishes  and  gardens.  They  awaited  her  Sunday 
letters — their  "  chief  pleasure  " — with  impatience. 
They  never  forgot  either  her  birthday  or  Mrs.  Cado- 
gan's.  When  in  a  passing  fit  of  retrenchment  she 
meditated  migration  to  one  of  her  several  future  lodg- 
ings in  Bond  Street,  who  so  afraid  for  her  inconveni- 
ence as  her  dear  Mrs.  Bolton?  When  the  ministry, 
after  Pitt's  demise,  brought  Canning  to  the  fore,  who* 
again  so  glad  that  George  Rose  was  his  friend  and 
hers,  so  convinced  that  the  "  new  people  who  shoot 
up  "  as  petitioners  were  the  real  obstacles  to  her  suc- 
cess ?  And  so  in  a  sense  it  proved,  for  one  of  the  min- 
istry's excuses  may  well  have  been  that  a  noble  fam- 
ily had  been  ten  years  on  their  hands.  Mrs.  Bolton 
still  hoped — even  in  1808 — that  the  "  good  wishes  of 
one  who  is  gone  to  heaven  will  disappoint  the  wicked." 
Mrs.  Matcham,  too,  who  "  recalled  the  many  happy 
days  we  have  spent  together,"  was  always  soliciting  a 
visit :  "  It  will  give  us  great  pleasure  to  fete  you,  the 
best  in  our  power."  She  longed — in  1808  again — to 
pass  her  time  with  her,  though  it  might  be  a  "  selfish 
wish."  But  Emma  preferred  the  Bolton  household. 
She  and  Horatia  went  there  immediately  after  the 
"  codicil "  annoyances,  and  twice  more  earlier  in  that 
same  year  alone.  Emma,  they  repeated,  "  was  beloved 
by  all."  And  her  affection  extended  to  their  friends 
at  Brancaster  and  elsewhere.  Sir  William  Bolton  re- 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  441 

mained  in  his  naval  command,  and  Lady  Hamilton 
kept  her  popularity  with  the  navy.  Anne  and  Eliza 
Bolton,  together  with  their  mother,  hung  on  her  light- 
est words,  and  followed  her  singing-parties  at  "  Old 
Q.'s,"  in  1807,  with  more  than  musical  interest.  Eliza, 
indeed,  one  regrets  to  recount,  confided  a  dream  to 
Emma,  a  dream  of  "  Old  Q.'s  "  death  and  a  thumping 
legacy.  "  There  is  a  feeling  for  you  at  this  heart  of 
mine,"  wrote  Anne  Bolton,  just  before  the  crash,  "  that 
will  not  be  conquered,  and  I  believe  will  accompany 
me  wherever  I  may  go,  and  last  while  I  have  life." 
Surely  in  Emma  must  have  resided  something  mag- 
netic so  to  draw  the  hearts  of  the  young  towards  her 
• — even  when,  as  now,  she  seemed  to  neglect  them. 
Those  who  judge,  or  misjudge  her,  might  have  modi- 
fied their  censoriousness  had  they  experienced  the  win- 
ning charm  of  her  friendship. 

But  all  this  while,  and  under  the  surface,  Emma 
continued  miserable,  ill,  and  worried.  Her  impor- 
tunities with  the  Government  were  doomed  to  failure; 
her  monetary  position,  aggravated  by  reckless  gen- 
erosity towards  her  poverty-stricken  kinsfolk,  grew 
more  precarious;  but  her  pride  seems  not  to  have  let 
her  breathe  a  syllable  of  these  embarrassments  to  the 
Boltons  or  the  Matchams. 

For  a  while  she  removed  to  136  Bond  Street  as  a 
London  pied-a-terre.  One  of  her  letters  of  this  period 
survives,  addressed  to  Captain  Rose,  her  befriender's 
son.  Horatia  insisted  on  guiding  Emma's  hand,  and 
both  mother  and  daughter  signed  the  letter.  "  Con- 
tinue to  love  us,"  she  says,  "  and  if  you  would  make 
Merton  your  home,  whenever  you  land  on  shore  you 
will  make  us  very  happy."  To  Merton,  so  long  as  she 
could,  she  and  her  fatherless  daughter  still  clung. 

To  carry  out  Nelson's  wishes  with  regard  to  Hora- 
tia's  education  was  her  main  care,  but  her  ideas  of 


442  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

education  began  and  ended  with  accomplishments. 
Horatia's  precocities  both  delighted  and  angered  her. 
Of  real  mental  discipline  she  had  no  knowledge,  and 
her  stormy  temper  found  its  match  in  her  child's. 

Her  restless  energy,  bereft  of  its  old  vents,  found 
refuge  in  getting  Harrison  to  write  his  flimsy  life  of 
the  hero;  in  trying  to  dispose  of  the  beloved  home, 
which  she  became  hourly  less  able  to  maintain;  in 
coping  with  her  enemies ;  in  dictating  letters  to  Clarke, 
another  of  the  throng  of  dependants  with  whom  she 
liked  to  surround  herself;  in  hoping  that  Hayley 
would  celebrate  her  in  his  Life  of  Romney.  An  un- 
published letter  from  her  to  him  of  June,  1806— a 
portion  of  which  has  been  already  cited — depicts  her 
as  she  was.  She  is  "  very  low-spirited  and  very  far 
from  well."  She  was  "  very  happy  at  Naples,  but  all 
seems  gone  like  a  dream."  She  is  "  plagued  by  law- 
yers, ill-used  by  the  Government,  and  distracted  by 
that  variety  and  perplexity  of  subjects  which  press 
upon  her,"  without  any  one  left  to  steer  her  course. 
She  passes  "  as  much  of  her  time  at  dear  Merton  as 
possible,"  and  "  always  feels  particularly  low  "  when 
she  leaves  it.  She  tries  hard  to  gain  "  a  mastery  over 
herself,"  but  at  present  her  own  unhappiness  is  as  in- 
vincible as  her  gratitude  to  her  old  friend  who  so  often 
influenced  her  for  good.  She  is  distraught,  misin- 
terpreted, the  sport  of  chance  and  apathy. 

"L'ignprance  en  courant  fait  sa  roide  homicide, 
L'indifference  observe  et  le  hasard  decide." 

Two  years  later  again,  when  misfortunes  were  thick- 
ening around  her,  she  thus  addressed  Heaviside,  her 
kind  surgeon: — ".  .  .  Altho'  that  life  to  myself  may 
no  longer  be  happy,  yet  my  dear  mother  and  Horatia 
will  bless  you,  for  if  I  can  make  the  old  age  of  my 
good  mother  comfortable,  and  educate  Horatia,  as 


443 

the  great  and  glorious  Nelson  in  his  dying  moments 
begged  me  to  do,  I  shall  feel  yet  proud  and  delighted 
that  I  am  doing  my  duty  and  fulfilling  the  desires  and 
wishes  of  one  I  so  greatly  honoured."  And  in  the 
same  strain  she  wrote  in  that  same  year  to  Greville, 
who  had  then  relented  towards  her.  She  strove,  she 
assured  him,  to  fulfil  all  that  "  glorious  Nelson " 
thought  that  she  ".would  do  if  he  fell" — her  "daily 
duties  to  his  memory."  Of  "  virtuous  "  Nelson  she 
writes  perpetually.  On  him  as  perpetually  she  muses. 
For  till  she  had  met  him  she  had  never  known  the 
meaning  of  true  self-sacrifice.  In  his  strength  her 
weak  soul  was  still  absorbed.  Remembrance  was  now 
her  guiding  star;  but  it  trembled  above  her  over 
troubled  waters,  leading  to  a  dismal  haven.  Nor,  in 
her  own  sadness^  was  she  ever  unmindful  of  the  mis- 
ery and  wants  of  others. 

Before  the  year  1808,  which  was  to  drive  her  from 
"  dear,  dear  Merton,"  had  opened,  she  received  one 
more  letter  which  cheered  her.  Mrs.  Thomas,  the 
widow  of  her  old  Hawarden  employer,  the  mother  of 
the  daughter  who  first  sketched  her  beauty,  and  whom 
Emma  always  remembered  with  gratitude,  wrote  to 
condole  with  her  on  the  misconduct  of  some  of  the 
Connors.  She  alluded  also  to  that  old  relation,  Mr. 
Kidd,  mentioned  at  the  beginning  of  our  story,  who 
from  being  above  had  fallen  beyond  work,  but  who 
still  battened  on  the  bounty  of  his  straitened  bene- 
factress : — 

"...  I  am  truly  sorry  that  you  have  so  much 
trouble  with  your  relations,  and  the  ungrateful  return 
your  care  and  generosity  meets  with,  is  indeed  enough 
to  turn  your  heart  against  them.  However;  ungrate- 
ful as  they  are,  your  own  generous  heart  cannot  see 
them  in  want,  and  it  is  a  pity  that  your  great  generosity 
towards  them  shou'd  be  so  ill-placed.  I  don't  doubt 


444  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

that  you  receive  a  satisfaction  in  doing  for  them,  which 
will  reward  you  here  and  hereafter.  .1  sent  for  Mr. 
Kidd  upon  the  receipt  of  your  letter.  I  believe  he  has 
been  much  distressed  for  some  time  back.  ...  As  he 
observes,  he  was  not  brought  up  for  work."  In  her 
opinion,  the  less  pocket-money  he  gets,  the  better;  it 
"  will  onely  be  spent  in  the  ale-house."  The  Reyn- 
oldses,  too,  had  been  living  upon  Emma,  and  another 
relation,  Mr.  Nichol,  Kidd's  connection,  expected  ten 
shillings  a  week.  Emma  had  provided  Richard 
Reynolds  with  clothes,  and  a  Mr.  Humphries  with 
lodging.  They  all  imagined  her  in  clover,  and  she 
would  not  undeceive  them.  When  her  "  extrava- 
gance "  is  brought  up  against  her,  these  deeds  of  hid- 
den and  ill-requited  generosity  should  be  remembered. 
She  was  more  extravagant  for  others  than  for  herself. 
She  even  besought  the  Queen  of  Naples  to  confer  a 
pension  on  Mrs.  Grafer,  though  she  besought  in  vain. 
And  all  the  time  she  continued  her  unceasing  presents 
to  Nelson's  relations,  and  to  poor  blind  "  Mrs.  Maurice 
Nelson." 

But  these  were  the  flickers  of  a  wasting  candle.  By 
April,  1808,  Merton  was  up  for  sale.  The  Boltons 
had  not  the  slightest  inkling  of  her  disasters.  They 
missed  the  regularity  of  her  letters;  they  had  heard 
that  she  was  unwell,  and  fretting  herself,  but  they  were 
quite  unaware  of  the  cause.  Indeed,  Anne  Bolton 
was  herself  now  at  Merton  with  Horatia,  under  the 
care  of  Mrs.  Cadogan,  who  was  soon  ill  herself  under 
the  worries  so  bravely  withheld. 

Maria  Carolina,  still  in  correspondence  with  her 
friend,  was,  however,  unable,  it  would  seem,  or  un- 
willing to  aid  her  since  she  had  written  the  reluctant 
plea  on  her  behalf  to  the  English  ministers  four  years 
previously.  Indeed,  it  may  be  guessed  that  one  of  the 
reasons  alleged  for  disregarding  the  supplication  of 


EMMA;  LADY  HAMILTON        445 

Nelson,  was  that  its  discussion  might  compromise  the 
Neapolitan  Queen.  This,  then,  was  the  end  of  the 
royal  gratitude  so  long  and  lavishly  professed.  When 
Emma  in  this  year  besought  her,  not  for  herself,  but 
for  Mrs.  Grafer  (then  on  the  eve  of  return  to 
Palermo),  she  told  Greville  that  she  had  adjured  her 
to  redeem  her  pledge  of  a  pension  to  their  friend  "  by 
the  love  she  bears,  or  once  bore,  to  Emma,"  as  well  as 
"  by  the  sacred  memory  of  Nelson."  If  the  Queen 
was  at  this  time  in  such  straits  as  precluded  her  from 
a  pecuniary  grant  once  promised  to  the  dependant,  she 
might  still  have  exerted  herself  for  her  dearest  friend. 
But  "  Out  of  sight,  out  of  mind."  In  despair,  while 
Rose  returned  to  his  barren  task  of  doing  little  elab- 
orately, Emma  betook  herself  to  Lord  St.  Vincent. 
If  her  importunities  could  effect  nothing  with  the  gods 
above,  she  would  entreat  one  of  them  below.  Per- 
haps Nelson's  old  ally  could  melt  the  obdurate  min- 
isters into  some  regard  for  Nelson's  latest  prayers; 
perhaps  through  him  she  might  draw  a  drop,  if  only 
of  bitterness,  with  her  Danaid  bucket  from  that  dreary 
official  well. 

She  conjures  him  by  the  "  tender  recollection  "  of 
his  love  for  Nelson  to  help  the  hope  reawakened  in 
her  "  after  so  many  years  of  anxiety  and  cruel  dis- 
appointment," that  some  heed  may  be  paid  to  the  dying 
wishes  of  "  our  immortal  and  incomparable  hero,"  for 
the  reward  of  those  "  public  services  of  importance  " 
which  it  was  her  "  pride  as  well  as  duty  to  perform." 
She  will  not  harrow  him  by  detailing  "  the  various 
vicissitudes "  of  her  "  hapless "  fortunes  since  the 
fatal  day  when  "  Nelson  bequeathed  herself  and  his  in- 
fant daughter,  expressly  left  under  her  guardianship, 
to  the  munificent  protection  of  our  Sovereign  and  the 
nation."  She  will  not  arouse  his  resentment  "  by  re- 
citing the  many  petty  artifices,  mean  machinations, 


446  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

and  basely  deceptive  tenders  of  friendship "  which 
hitherto  have  thwarted  her.  She  reminds  him  that 
he  knows  what  she  did,  because  to  her  and  her  hus- 
band's endeavours  she  had  been  indebted  for  his  friend- 
ship. The  widow  of  Lock,  the  Palermo  Consul,  had 
an  immediate  pension  assigned  of  £800  a  year,  while 
Mr.  Fox's  natural  daughter,  Miss  Willoughby,  ob- 
tained one  of  £300.  Might  not  the  widow  of  the 
King's  foster-brother,  an  Ambassador  so  distinguished, 
hope  for  some  recognition  of  what  she  had  really  done, 
and  what  Nelson  had  counted  on  being  conceded? 

At  the  same  time  both  she  and  Rose  besought  Lord 
Abercorn,  who  interested  himself  warmly  in  her 
favour.  In  Rose's  letter  occurs  an  important  passage, 
to  the  effect  that  Nelson  on  his  last  return  home  had, 
through  him,  forwarded  to  Pitt  a  solemn  assurance 
that  it  was  through  Emma's  "  exclusive  interposition 
that  he  had  obtained  provisions  and  water  for  the  Eng- 
lish ships  at  Syracuse,  in  the  summer  of  1798,  by  which 
he  was  enabled  to  return  to  Egypt  in  quest  of  the 
enemy's  fleet  " ;  and  also  that  Pitt  himself,  while  stay- 
ing with  him  at  Cuffnells,  had  "  listened  favourably  " 
to  his  representations.  Rose  had  previously  assured 
Lady  Hamilton  that  he  was  convinced  of  the  "  justice 
of  her  pretensions,"  to  which  she  "  was  entitled  both 
on  principle  and  policy." 

And  not  long  afterwards,  when,  as  we  shall  shortly 
see,  kind  friends  came  privately  to  her  succour,  she 
forwarded  another  long  memorial  to  Rose,  in  whose 
Diaries  it  is  comprised,  clearly  detailing  both  services 
and  misadventures.  "  This  want  of  success,"  she  re- 
peats, and  with  truth,  "  has  been  more  unfortunate 
for  me,  as  I  have  incurred  very  heavy  expenses  in  com- 
pleting what  Lord  Nelson  had  left  unfinished  at  Mer- 
ton,  and  I  have  found  it  impossible  to  sell  the  place." 
She  might  have  added  that  Nelson  entreated  her  not 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  447 

to  spend  one  penny  of  income  on  the  contracts;  he 
never  doubted  that  this  cost  at  least  the  nation  would 
defray.  "  From  these  circumstances,"  she  resumes, 
"  I  have  been  reduced  to  a  situation  the  most  painful 
and  distressing  that  can  be  conceived,  and  should  have 
been  actually  confined  in  prison,  if  a  few  friends  from 
attachment  to  the  memory  of  Lord  Nelson  had  not  in- 
terfered to  prevent  it,  under  whose  kind  protection 
alone  I  am  enabled  to  exist.  My  case  is  plain  and  sim- 
ple. I  rendered  a  service  of  the  utmost  importance  to 
my  country,  attested  in  the  clearest  and  most  undeni- 
able manner  possible,  and  I  have  received  no  reward, 
although  justice  was  claimed  for  me  by  the  hero  who 
lost  his  life  in  the  performance  of  his  duty.  ...  If  I 
had  bargained  for  a  reward  beforehand,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  but  that  it  would  have  been  given  to  me,  and 
liberally.  I  hoped  then  not  to  want  it.  I  do  now 
stand  in  the  utmost  need  of  it,  and  surely  it  will  not  be 
refused  to  me.  ...  I  anxiously  implore  that  my 
claims  may  not  be  rejected  without  consideration,  and 
that  my  forbearance  to  urge  them  earlier  may  not  be 
objected  to  me,  because  in  the  lifetime  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton  I  should  not  have  thought  of  even  mention- 
ing them,  nor  indeed  after  his  death,  if  I  had  been  left 
in  a  less  comparatively  destitute  state." 

Yet  the  latter  was  the  excuse  continuously  urged  by 
successive  Governments.  Both  Rose  and  Canning, 
more  than  once,  admitted  the  justice  of  her  claims, 
and  even  Grenville  seems  by  implication  not  to  have 
denied  it.  Rose  always  avowed  his  promise  to  Nelson 
at  his  "  last  parting  from  him  "  to  do  his  best,  and  he 
did  it.  But  he  well  knew  that  the  real  obstacle  lay 
not  in  doubt,  or  in  lapse  of  time,  or  in  the  quibble  of 
how  and  from  what  fund  it  would  be  possible  to  satisfy 
her  claims,  but  solely  in  the  royal  disinclination  to 
favour  one  whom  the  King's  foster-brother  had  mar- 


448  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

ried  against  his  will,  and  whose  early  antecedents,  and 
later  connection  with  Nelson,  alike  scandalised  him. 
The  objections  raised  were  always  technical  and 
parliamentary,  and  never  touched  the  substantial 
point  of  justice  at  all.  The  sum  named— 
£6000  or  £7000 — would  have  been  a  bagatelle 
in  view  of  the  party  jobbing  then  universally  prevalent; 
and  no  attentive  peruser  of  the  whole  correspondence 
from  1803-1813  can  fail  to  grasp  that  each  successive 
minister — one  generously,  another  grudgingly — at 
least  never  disputed  her  claims  even  while  he  refused 
them.  It  was  not  their  justice,  but  justice  itself  that 
was  denied,  and  the  importunate  widow  was  left  plead- 
ing before  the  unjust  judge  who  had  more  advan- 
tageous claimants  to  content.  Pitt's  death,  in  January, 
1806,  was  undoubtedly  a  great  blow  to  Emma's  hopes. 
During  his  last  illness  she  must  often  have  watched 
that  white  house  at  Putney  with  the  keenest  anxiety. 
So  early  as  the  beginning  of  1805,  Lord  Melville, 
whom  Nelson  had  asked  to  bestir  himself  on  Emma's 
behalf  during  his  absence,  told  Davison  that  he  had 
spoken  to  Pitt  personally  about  "  the  propriety  of  a 
pension  of  £500 "  for  her.  Melville  himself  spoke 
"  very  handsomely  "  both  of  her  and  her  "  services." 
Pitt,  if  he  had  survived  more  than  a  year  and  had 
been  quit  of  Lord  Grenville,  might  have  risked  the 
royal  disfavour,  as  in  weightier  concerns  he  never 
shrank  from  doing.  The  luckless  Emma  sank  appar- 
ently between  the  two  stools  of  social  propriety  and  of- 
ficial convenience,  while  the  hope  against  hope,  that 
no  disillusionment  could  extinguish,  constantly  made 
her  the  victim  of  her  anticipations. 

For  a  moment  a  purchaser  willing  to  give  £13,000 
for  Merton  had  been  almost  secured.  But  debts  and 
fears  hung  around  her  neck  like  millstones.  They  in- 
terrupted her  correspondence  and  sapped  her  health, 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  449 

now  in  serious  danger.  By  June,  1808,  she  told  her 
surgeon,  Heaviside,  that  she  was  so  "  low  and  com- 
fortless "  that  nothing  did  her  good.  Her  heart  was 
so  "  oppressed  "  that  "  God  only  knows  "  when  that 
will  mend, — "  perhaps  only  in  heaven."  He  had 
"  saved  "  her  life.  He  was  "  like  unto  her  a  father, 
a  good  brother."  In  vain  she  supplicated  "  Old  Q." 
to  purchase  Merton  and  she  would  live  on  what  re- 
mained :  he  had  named  her  in  his  will,  and  that  suf- 
ficed. With  her  staunch  servant  Nanny,  and  her 
faithful  "  old  Dame  Francis,"  who  attended  her  to  the 
end  she  and  Horatia  retired  to  Richmond,  where  for  a 
space  the  Duke  allowed  her  to  occupy  Heron  Court, 
though  this  too  was  later  on  to  be  exchanged  for  a 
small  house  in  the  Bridge  Road.  She  herself  drew  up 
a  will,  bequeathing  what  still  was  hers  to  her  mother 
for  her  life,  and  afterwards  to  "  Nelson's  daughter," 
with  many  endearments,  and  expressing  the  perhaps 
impudent  request  that  possibly  she  might  be  permitted 
to  rest  near  Nelson  in  St.  Paul's,  but  otherwise  she  de- 
sired to  rest  near  her  "  dear  mother."  She  begged 
Rose  to  act  as  her  executor,  and  she  called  on  him,  the 
Duke,  the  Prince,  and  "  any  administration  that  has 
hearts  and  feelings,"  to  support  and  cherish  Horatia. 

All  proved  unavailing,  and  she  resigned  herself  to 
the  inevitable  liquidation.  After  a  visit  to  the  Bol- 
tons  in  October,  she  returned  to  arrange  her  affairs  in 
November. 

A  committee  of  warm  friends  had  taken  them  in 
hand.  Many  of  them  had  powerful  city  connectiohs. 
Sir  John  Perring  was  chairman  of  a  meeting  convened 
in  his  house  at  the  close  of  November.  His  chief  as- 
sociates were  Goldsmid,  Davison,  Barclay,  and  Lavie, 
a  solicitor  of  the  highest  standing,  and  there  were  five 
other  gentlemen  of  repute. 

A  full  statement  had  been  drawn  up.     Her  assets 


450  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

amounted  to  £17,500,  "  taken  at  a  very  low  rate,"  and 
independent  of  her  annuities  under  the  two  wills  and 
her  "  claim  on  the  Government,"  which  they  still  put 
to  the  credit  side.  Her  private  debts,  of  which  a 
great  part  seems  to  have  been  on  account  of  the  Mer- 
ton  improvements,  amounted  to  £8,000,  but  there  were 
also  exorbitant  demands  on  the  part  of  money-lenders, 
who  had  made  advances  on  the  terms  of  receiving  "  an- 
nuities." To  satisfy  these,  £10,000  were  required. 

Everything  possible  was  managed.  All  her  assets, 
including  the  prosecution  of  those  hopeless  claims, 
were  vested  in  the  committee  as  trustees,  and  they 
were  realised  to  advantage.  Goldsmid  himself  pur- 
chased Merton.  £3700  were  meanwhile  subscribed  in 
advance  to  pay  off  her  private  indebtedness. 

At  this  juncture  Greville  reappears  unexpectedly 
upon  the  scene.  In  her  sore  distress  he  thawed 
towards  one  whom  his  iciest  reserve  and  most  petti- 
fogging avarice  had  never  chilled.  He  had  evidently 
asked  her  to  call,  though  he  never  seems  to  have  of- 
fered assistance.  She  answered,  in  a  letter  far  more 
concerning  her  friend  Mrs.  Grafer's  affairs  than  her 
own,  that  an  interview  with  her  "  trustees  "  must,  alas ! 
prevent  her : — "  I  will  call  soon  to  see  you,  and  in- 
form you  of  my  present  prospect  of  Happiness  at  a 
moment  of  Desperation";  you  who,  she  adds,  "I 
thought  neglected  me,  Goldsmid  and  my  city  friends 
came  forward,  and  they  have  rescued  me  from  De- 
struction, Destruction  brought  on  by  Earl  Nelson's 
having  thrown  on  me  the  Bills  for  finishing  Merton, 
by  his  having  secreted  the  Codicil  of  Dying  Nelson, 
who  attested  in  his  dying  moments  that  I  had  well 
served  my  country.  All  these  things  and  papers  .  .  . 
I  have  laid  before  my  Trustees.  They  are  paying  my 
debts.  I  live  in  retirement,  and  the  City  are  going 
to  bring  forward  my  claims.  .  .  .  Nothing,  no  power 


The  death   of   Admiral   Nelson  at  the   battle   of  Trafalgar. 
"Thank  God,  I   have  done  my  duty." 

From  the  Painting  by  W.  H.  Overend. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

on  earth  shall  make  me  deviate  from  my  present  sys- 
tem" she  concludes,  using  the  very  word  which 
Greville  used  concerning  his  methods  with  woman- 
kind in  the  first  letter  which  she  ever  received  from 
him.  Goldsmid  had  been  an  "  angel " ;  friends  were 
so  kind  that  she  scarcely  missed  her  carriage  and 
horses. 

Emma  had  every  reason  to  be  grateful.  She  was 
clear  of  debt.  She  could  still  retain  the  valuables  that 
were  out  of  Merton.  With  Horatia's  settlement,  she 
could  count  on  her  old  revenue  when  the  "  annuities  " 
had  been  discharged.  Somehow  they  never  were,  and 
they  again  figure  largely  during  her  last  debacle.  The 
mysteries  of  her  entanglements  baffle  discovery;  so 
does  her  sanguine  improvidence  which,  to  the  end, 
alternated  with  deep  depression.  In  a  few  years  she 
and  Horatia,  like  Hagar  and  Ishmael,  were  to  go  forth 
into  the  wilderness;  but  even  then  she  was  still  buoyed 
up  with  this  mirage  of  an  oasis  in  her  tantalising 
desert. 

Relieved  for  the  moment,  she  resumed  the  tenor  of 
her  way  at  Richmond.  She  frequented  concerts,  and 
sometimes  dances,  in  the  fashionable  set  of  the  Duke 
and  the  Abercorns.  In  June,  1809,  Lord  Northwick 
begged  her  to  come  to  the  Harrow  speeches,  and  after- 
wards meet  a  few  "  old  Neapolitan  friends  "  and  her 
life-long  friend  the  Duke  of  Sussex  at  "  a  fete  in  his 
house."  The  fame  of  Horatia's  accomplishments 
added  the  zest  of  curiosity.  All  were  eager  to  meet 
the  "  interesting  eleve  whom  Lady  Hamilton  has 
brought  up  "  with  every  grace  and  every  charm.  The 
Duke  of  Sussex  looked  forward  to  the  encounter  with 
pleasure;  Emma  had  not  yet  lost  her  empire  over  the 
hearts  of  men.  Of  this  invitation  Emma  took  ad- 
vantage to  do  a  thoughtful  kindness  for  an  unhappy 
bride  who  had  just  married  the  composer  Francesco 

Memoirs — Vol.  14 — 15 


452  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Bianchi.  Twelve  days  earlier  she  had  tried  appar- 
ently to  heal  the  breach  between  them. 

The  Bohemians,  therefore,  were  always  with  her. 
She  continued  to  receive  the  Italian  singers  as  well  as 
their  patrons;  she  still  saw  Mrs.  Denis  and  Mrs.  Bil- 
lington,  whose  brutal  husband,  Filisan,  was  now  threat- 
ening her  from  Paris;  while  Mrs.  Grafer,  on  the  very 
eve  of  return  to  Italy,  continued  to  beset  her  with  im- 
portunities. Nor  did  her  old  friends,  naval,  musical, 
and  literary,  spare  the  largeness  of  her  hospitality  or 
the  narrowness  of  her  purse. 

But,  in  addition  to  these  diversions,  she  still  over- 
tasked herself  with  Horatia's  education — so  much  so, 
that  Mrs.  Bolton  wrote  beseeching  her  to  desist.  Sarah 
Connor  had  now  transferred  her  services  to  the  Nel- 
son family,  and  Emma  eventually  took  the  musical 
but  far  less  literate  Cecilia  for  Horatia's  governess. 

"  Old  Q.,"  her  patron,  now  in  the  last  year  of  his 
self-indulgent  life,  was  busy  making  a  new  will  every 
week.  His  friendship  for  Emma,  however,  had  been 
truly  disinterested,  and  even  calumny  never  coupled 
their  names  together.  When  he  died  next  year,  he 
left  her  an  annuity  of  £500,  which,  however — such  was 
her  persistent  ill  luck — she  never  lived  to  receive,  for 
the  old  voluptuary's  will  was  contested,  it  would  seem, 
till  after  Lady  Hamilton  had  paid  the  debt  of  nature. 
Even  if  she  had  survived  the  litigation,  it  would  prob- 
ably have  absorbed  a  portion  of  the  bequest. 

The  autumn  of  1809  saw,  too,  the  end  of  Greville. 
Since  his  mean  and  heartless  treatment  of  her  after 
Hamilton's  death,  Emma,  save  for  the  glimpse  of 
reconciliation  afforded  by  the  remarkable  communica- 
tion of  1808  just  quoted,  had  never  so  much  as  breathed 
his  name  in  any  of  her  surviving  letters.  The  collector 
of  stones  had,  till  that  moment  of  compunction,  him- 
self been  petrified.  In  1812  his  crystals,  for  which  he 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  453 

had  so  long  ago  exchanged  Emma,  together  with  the 
paintings  which  his  cult  of  beauty  at  the  expense  of 
the  beautiful  had  amassed,  were  sold  at  Christie's. 
"  The  object  of  this  connoisseur,"  writes  M.  Simond, 
an  eye-witness  of  the  auction,  "  was  to  exhibit  the 
progress  of  the  art  from  its  origin  by  a  series  of  pic- 
tures of  successive  ages — many  of  them  very  bad." 
And  perhaps  the  faultiest  of  his  pictures  had  been  him- 
self. 

From  1810,  when  they  left  Richmond,  onwards, 
Emma  and  Horatia  owned  no  fixed  abode.  They 
moved  from  Bond  Street  to  Albemarle  Street,  thence, 
after  perhaps  a  brief  sojourn  in  Piccadilly  again,  to 
Dover  Street,  thence  to  two  separate  lodgings  at  the 
two  ends  again  of  Bond  Street,  where  Nelson  for  a 
brief  space  after  Sir  William's  death  had  also  lodged. 
Lady  Bolton,  with  her  daughter,  the  godchild  Emma, 
who  had  failed  to  find  her  at  the  opening  of  the  year, 
expressed  their  keen  disappointment :  "  You  cannot 
think  how  melancholy  I  felt  when  we  passed  the  gate 
at  the  top  of  Piccadilly,  thinking  how  often  we  had 
passed  it  together.  .  .  .  Emma  sends  her  best  love 
and  kisses  to  you,  and  Horatia,  and  Mrs.  Cadogan. 
When  I  told  her  just  now  how  if  we  had  gone  two 
houses  further  we  should  have  seen  you,  she  looked 
very  grave.  At  last  she  called  out :  '  Pray,  Mama, 
promise  me  to  call  as  we  go  back  to  Cranwich.'  .  .  . 
My  love  to  Mrs.  Cadogan,  Miss  Connor,  and  my  dear 
Horatia.  .  .  .  God  bless  you,  my  dear  Lady  Ham- 
ilton." 

But  the  worst  blow  was  yet  to  fall.  By  the  opening 
of  the  new  year  her  mother  lay  on  her  deathbed. 

Her  old  admirer,  Sir  H.  Fetherstonehaugh — and 
nothing  is  more  curious  in  this  extraordinary  woman's 
life  than  the  way  in  which  the  light  lover  of  her  first 
girlhood  re-emerges  after  thirty  years  as  a  respectful 


454  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

friend — began  a  series  of  sympathising  letters.  He 
was  much  concerned  for  her  health,  and  ill  as  she  was, 
she  forgot  her  own  ailments  in  the  terrible  trial  of 
her  mother's  malady.  "  As  I  am  alive  to  all  nervous 
sensations,"  he  wrote,  "  be  assured  I  understand  your 
language." — "I  trust  you  will  soon  be  relieved  from 
all  that  load  of  anxiety  you  have  had  so  much  of  lately, 
and  which  no  one  so  little  deserves." 

Mrs.  Cadogan  died  on  the  same  day  as  the  date  of 
this  letter,  and  Emma  with.  Horatia  now  drifted  for- 
lorn and  alone  in  a  pitiless  world.  Emma's  mother 
had  endeared  herself  to  all  the  Nelson  and  Hamilton 
circle,  as  well  as  to  her  own  humble  kindred.  "  Dear 
Blessed  Saint,"  wrote  Mrs.  Bolton  to  Lady  Hamilton, 
"  was  she  not  a  mother  to  us  all !  How  I  wish  I  was 
near  you ! "  She  was  buried  in  that  Paddington 
churchyard  which  she  and  Emma  had  known  so  well 
in  the  old  days  at  Edgware  Row. 

Emma  was  paralysed  by  the  blow.  More  than  a 
year  afterwards  she  wrote  that  she  could  feel  "  no 
pleasure  but  that  of  thinking  and  speaking  of  her."  In 
sending  to  Mrs.  Girdlestone — whose  family  still  pos- 
sesses so  many  relics  of  Nelson — the  box  which  the 
Duke  of  Sussex  had  presented  to  Mrs.  Cadogan  in 
Naples,  the  bereaved  daughter  concluded  a  touching 
letter  as  follows :  "  Accept  then,  my  dear  Friend,  this 
box.  You  that  are  so  fond  a  mother,  and  have  such 
good  children,  will  be  pleased  to  take  it  as  a  token  of 
my  regard,  for  I  have  lost  the  best  of  mothers,  my 
wounded  heart,  my  comfort,  all  buried  with  her." 

"  Endeavour,"  wrote  Mrs.  Bolton,  "  to  keep  up  your 
spirits:  after  a  storm  comes  a  calm,  and  God  knows 
you  have  had  storm  enough,  and  surely  the  sun  must 
shine  sometimes." 

The  sun  was  never  to  shine  again.  This  very  year 
two  more  staunch  friends,  to  whom  Emma  had  been 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  455 

indebted  for  many  kindnesses,  made  their  exit,  the  old 
Duke  and  the  generous  Abraham  Goldsmid,  who,  in 
despair  at  the  failure  of  the  recent  Government  loan, 
died  by  his  own  hand.  It  was  a  year  of  tumult.  The 
din  and  riot  of  Burdett's  election  endangered  the 
streets;  abroad  it  was  the  year  of  Napoleon's  second 
marriage,  of  the  great  battle  of  Wagram  preluding 
the  Russian  campaign.  Maria  Carolina  was  an  exile 
once  more.  Austria  and  the  allies  were  worsted  and 
rabid.  Whichever  way  Emma's  distraught  mind 
turned,  despair  and  misery  were  her  outlook,  and  Nel- 
son seemed  to  have  died  in  vain. 

The  sum  raised  for  her  relief  had  been  soon  ex- 
hausted. In  removing  to  Bond  Street  she  intended 
really  to  retrench,  but  everything  was  swallowed  up 
by  the  crowd  of  parasites  who  consumed  her  substance 
behind  her  back.  Her  landlady,  Mrs.Daumier,  pressed 
for  payment.  And  yet  Lady  Hamilton's  own  require- 
ments seem  to  have  been  modest  enough.  It  was  Mrs. 
Bianchi,  Mrs.  Billington,  the  person,  whoever  he  may 
have  been,  who  filched  her  papers  from  her  afterwards, 
and  the  battening  Neapolitans  that  rendered  economy 
impossible  and  swarmed  around  her  to  the  close.  Nor 
would  old  dependants  of  Nelson  believe  that  she  was 
impoverished.  One,  "  William  Nelson,"  importuned 
her  for  another  from  Bethnal  Green ;  Mr.  Twiss,  Mrs. 
Siddons's  nephew,  urged  her  influence  for  his  solicita- 
tions to  gain  a  "  commissionership  of  Bankruptcy  " — 
an  ominous  word  for  Emma.  The  Kidds,  Reynoldses, 
and  Charles  Connor  still  lived  on,  the  girl  Connors  with 
her.  Their  conduct  ill  contrasted  with  that  of  the 
once  "  poor  little  Emma  " ;  for  the  unacknowledged 
Emma  "  Carew,"  after  disdaining  dependence  on  her 
prosperity,  was  now,  in  adversity,  bidding  her  a  last 
and  loving  farewell.  Sir  William  Bolton  still  en- 
treated her  good  offices  with  the  royal  dukes  for  "  poor 


456  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Horace " ;  so  did  Mrs.  Matcham  with  Rose.  She 
could  not  even  now  refrain  from  maintaining  appear- 
ances, and  keeping  open  house.  She  could  not  bring 
herself  to  let  those  debonair  royal  dukes  know  that 
one  whom  they  fancied  all  song  and  sunshine  was  on 
the  brink  of  beggary.  She  could  not  hold  the  promise, 
repeated  to  her  befrienders,  of  living  in  tranquillity 
and  retirement.  Nor  would  she  desist  from  making 
presents.  She  still  visited  fashionable  resorts  like 
Brighton.  She  still  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  Lady 
Elizabeth  Foster,  by  now  the  new  Duchess  of  Devon- 
shire. She  still  flattered  herself,  and  listened  to  the 
flatteries  of  others.  She  still  trusted  to  chance — to  her 
elusive  claims  and  her  elusive  legacy. 

The  old  Duke  had  left  Miss  Connor  a  legacy  also, 
but  all  his  bequests  were  long  postponed.  While  Mrs. 
Matcham  was  congratulating  Emma  on  accessions  of 
fortune,  while  elderly,  complimentary,  Frenchified 
Fetherstonehaugh  rejoiced  at  the  Queensberry  "  mite 
out  of  such  a  mass  of  wealth,"  forwarded  her  "  envoies 
de  gibier"  and  promised  her  "  a  view  of  old  Up  Park 
dans  la  belle  saison,"  the  widow's  cruse  was  wellnigh 
drained.  Nor  after  Greville's  death,  was  his  brother, 
as  trustee,  always  regular  in  his  payments  of  her  fore- 
stalled revenue.  With  reason,  as  well  as  with  excuses, 
Lord  Mansfield  warned  her  not  to  increase  her  ex- 
penditure till  her  "  affairs  were  settled."  Sir  Richard 
Puleston,  inviting  her  from  Wrexham  to  revisit  the 
scenes  of  her  childhood,  could  still  gloat  over  her 
"  fairy  palace  in  Bond  Street." 

In  extreme  need,  she  revived  her  desperate  petitions 
to  the  new  Government.  Her  fashionable  friends 
called  her  "  a  national  blessing,"  and  cried  shame  on 
the  deniers  of  her  suit.  But  Mrs.  Bolton  well  said  to 
her  that  she  feared  the  friendly  Rose  was  "  promising 
more  than  he  could  procure  " ;  and  amid  these  dubious 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  457 

hopes  two  tell-tale  pieces  of  paper  in  the  Morrison  Col- 
lection speak  volumes.  They  are  bills  drawn  on 
Emma  by  Carlo  Rovedino,  an  Italian,  for  £150  each. 

Even  Cecilia  Connor,  with  whom  she  had  quarrelled 
but  who  owed  her  everything,  dunned  "  her  Ladyship  " 
for  the  salary  due  for  such  education  as  she  had  given 
"  dear  Horatia."  This  was  the  last  straw. 

The  Matchams  and  Boltons  invited  her  yet  again, 
but  she  did  not  come.  She  concerted  fresh  petitions 
with  a  fresh  man  of  the  pen.  He  hastened  at  Emma's 
bidding  from  his  "  Woodbine  Cottage  "  at  Wootton 
Bridge.  He  worked  "  like  a  horse."  During  his  ab- 
sence his  wife  was  ill.  Emma  could  not  rest  for  think- 
ing of  her.  She  inquired  of  her  from  a  common 
friend.  She  wrote  to  her  herself:  "  You  do  not  know 
how  many  obligations  I  have  to  Mr.  Russell,  and  if  I 
have  success  it  will  be  all  owing  to  his  exertions  for 
me.  Would  to  God  you  were  in  town.  What  a  con- 
solation it  would  be  to  me."  All  smiles  to  the  world, 
full  of  wretchedness  within,  she  could  not,  as  she  wrote 
so  many  years  ago,  "  divest "  herself  "  of  her  natural 
feelings."  But  her  uniform  love  of  excitement — of 
which  these  hazardous  petitions  were  a  form — peeps 
out  at  the  close  of  this  little  note :  "  It  must  be  very 
didl,  alltho'  your  charming  family  must  be  such  a  com- 
fort to  you." 

The  crash  came  suddenly  with  the  opening  of  the 
new  year,  and  just  as  Miss  Matcham  was  begging  her 
to  repose  herself  with  them  at  Ashfield  Lodge.  Hora- 
tia had  whooping-cough.  Emma,  who  was  never  with- 
out a  companion,  had  replaced  Cecilia  Connor  by  a 
Miss  Wheatley.  For  the  sixth  time  she  had  failed  in 
moving  the  ministers,  but  her  tenacity  was  inexpug- 
nable. She  owed  it  to  her  kind  committee,  to  Nelson's 
memory,  to  Horatia,  to  herself.  The  creditors,  how- 
ever, at  last  perceived  that  the  asset  on  which  they  had 


458  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

built  their  hopes  had  vanished.  In  vain  she  prayed 
for  time ;  the  royal  dukes  would  not  see  her  draggled 
in  the  dust.  Royal  dukes,  however,  were  not  cash, 
thought  the  creditors,  when  they  promptly  arrested 
her  for  debt.  It  was  the  first  time  such  a  calamity 
had  even  entered  her  mind,  but  it  was  not  to  be  the  last, 
as  we  shall  soon  discover.  She  implored  none  of  her 
grand  friends.  From  the  disgrace  of  prison  she  saved 
herself.  Ill,  with  the  ailing  Horatia,  she  found  a  scant 
lodging  at  12  Temple  Place,  within  the  rules  of  the 
King's  Bench.  To  her  old  Merton  friend,  James 
Perry,  afterwards  proprietor  of  the  Morning  Chron- 
icle, and  through  thick  and  thin  her  warm  upholder, 
she  addressed  the  following  scrawl — 

"  Will«  you  have  the  goodness  to  see  my  old  Dame 
Francis,  as  you  was  so  good  to  say  to  me  at  once  at 
any  time  for  the  present  existing  and  unhappy  cir- 
cumstances you  wou'd  befriend  me,  and  if  you  cou'd  at 
your  conveaneance  call  on  me  to  aid  me  by  your  advice 
as  before.  My  friends  come  to  town  to-morrow  for 
the  season,  when  I  must  see  what  can  be  done,  so 
that  I  shall  not  remain  here ;  for  I  am  so  truly  unhappy 
and  wretched  and  have  been  ill  ever  since  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you  on  dear  Horatia's  birthday,  that 
I  have  not  had  either  spirits  or  energy  to  write  to  you. 
You  that  loved  Sir  William  and  Nelson,  and  feel  that 
I  have  deserved  from  my  country  some  tribute  of  re- 
muneration, will  aid  by  your  counsel  your  ever  affec- 
tionate and  grate  full.  .  .  ."  * 

And  to  the  Abbe  Campbell,  who  had  just  left  for 
Naples : — 

".  .  .  You  was  beloved  and  honour'd  by  my  hus- 
band, Nelson,  and  myself;  knew  me  in  all  my  former 
splendours;  you  I  look  on  as  a  dear,  dear  friend  and 
relation.  You  are  going  amongst  friends  who  love 
1  Morrison  MS.  1042,  January  3,  1813. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  459 

you ;  but  rest  assured  none  reveres  you  nor  loves  more 
than  your  ever,  etc.  PS. — Poor  Horatia  was  so 
broken-hearted  at  not  seeing  you.  Tell  dear  Mr. 
Tegart  to  call  on  me,  for  I  do  indeed  feil  truly  for- 
lorn and  friendless.  God  bless  you.  As  glorious 
Nelson  said,  Amen,  Amen,  Amen." 

Her  stay  in  these  purlieus  was  not  long.  Perry, 
and  probably  the  Mertonite  Alderman  Smith,  must 
have  bailed  her  out.  But  during  these  few  weeks  of 
restricted  liberty  she  slaved  at  new  petitions,  was  vis- 
ited by  friends,  and  continued  her  correspondence  with 
the  Boltons  and  the  Matchams,  who  begged  hard  for 
Horatia,  whom  they  would  meet  at  Reigate  if  Emma 
"  could  not  manage  to  come  "  with  her.  They  for- 
warded her  presents  of  potatoes  and  turkeys  from  the 
country,  and  their  letters  evidently  treat  her  just  as  if 
she  were  at  large. 

All  her  energies  were  bent  on  the  two  final  memorials 
so  often  referred  to  in  these  pages — that  to  the  Prince 
Regent,  and  that  to  the  King.  Rose  now  at  last 
espoused  her  cause  with  real  warmth,  and  Canning 
favoured  her,  despite  his  pique  at  her  exaggerated  ac- 
count of  what  Nelson  understood  from  their  last  in- 
terview. All,  however,  ended  in  smoke.  Perceval, 
whom  she  had  persuaded  into  benefiting  one  of  Nel- 
son's nephews,  had  been  shot  in  the  previous  year, 
and  Lord  Liverpool  trod  in  the  footsteps  of  Lord 
Grenville. 

Whither  she  repaired  on  liberation  is  unknown, 
though  by  the  summer  of  the  year  she  managed  to 
reinstate  herself  in  Bond  Street.1  There  is  no  head- 
ing to  the  strange  remonstrance  which  the  distressed 

1  No.  150.  This  is  manifest  from  the  inventory  and  sale  cata- 
logue of  the  following  July  sold  at  Sotheby's  on  July  8,  1905.  It 
is  dated  "  Thursday,  July  8,  1813."  Her  last  refuge  was  at  Ful- 
ham  with  Mrs.  Billington. 


460  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

mother  penned,  in  one  of  her  fitful  moods,  to  Horatia 
on  "  Easter  Sunday  "  *  of  this  year : — 

"  Listen  to  a  kind,  good  mother,  who  has  ever  been 
to  you  affectionate,  truly  kind,  and 'who  has  neither 
spared  pains  nor  expense  to  make  you  the  most 
amiable  and  accomplished  of  your  sex.  Ah !  Horatia, 
if  you  had  grown  up  as  I  wished  you,  what  a  joy,  what 
a  comfort  might  you  have  been  to  me!  For  I  have 
been  constant  to  you,  and  willingly  pleas'd  for  every 
manifestation  you  shew'd  to  learn  and  profitt  of  my 
lessons.  .  .  .  Look  into  yourself  well,  correct  your- 
self of  your  errors,  your  caprices,  your  nonsensical 
follies.  ...  I  have  weathered  many  a  storm  for  your 
sake,  but  these  frequent  blows  have  kill'd  me.  Listen 
then  from  a  mother,  who  speaks  from  the  dead.  Re- 
form your  conduct,  or  you  will  be  detested  by  all  the 
world,  and  when  you  shall  no  longer  have  my  foster- 
ing arm  to  sheild  you,  woe  betide  you,  you  will  sink 
to  nothing.  Be  good,  be  honourable,  tell  not  false- 
hoods, be  not  capricious."  She  threatened  to  put  her 
to  school — a  threat  never  executed.  "  I  grieve  and 
lament  to  see  the  increasing  strength  of  your  turbulent 
passions ;  I  weep,  and  pray  you  may  not  be  totally  lost ; 
my  fervent  prayers  are  offered  up  to  God  for  you.  I 
hope  you  may  become  yet  sensible  of  your  eternal  wel- 
fare. I  shall  go  join  your  father  and  my  blessed 
mother,  and  may  you  on  your  deathbed  have  as  little 
to  reproach  yourself  as  your  once  affectionate  mother 
has,  for  I  can  glorify,  and  say  I  was  a  good  child. 
Can  Horatia  Nelson  say  so?  I  am  unhappy  to  say 
you  cannot.  No  answer  to  this!  I  shall  to-morrow 
look  out  for  a  school  for  your  sake  to  save  you,  that 
you  may  bless  the  memory  of  an  injured  mother. 
PS. — Look  on  me  as  gone  from  this  world." 

Six  months  later  she  again  blamed  her  for  her 
1  April  18,  1813.  Cf.  Morrison  MS.  1047. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  461 

"  cruel  treatment."  It  may  well  be  that  the  poor 
young  girl,  bandied  about  with  Emma's  fortunes,  and 
with  her  driven  from  pillar  to  post,  complained  of  hard 
treatment.  "If  my  poor  mother,"  once  more  ex- 
claimed Emma,  who  had,  at  any  rate,  been  a  most  duti- 
ful daughter,  "  If  my  poor  mother  was  living  to  take 
my  part,  broken  as  I  am  with  greif  and  ill-health,  I 
should  be  happy  to  breathe  my  last  in  her  arms.  I 
thank  you  for  what  you  have  done  to-day.  You  have 
helped  me  nearer  to  God  and  may  God  forgive  you." 
In  two  days  "  all  will  be  arranged  for  her  future  estab- 
lishment." She  will  summon  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Clive, 
Colonel  and  Mrs.  Smith,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Denis,  Dr. 
Norton,  Nanny  the  old  servant,  Mr.  Slop,  Mr.  Sice, 
Annie  Deane,  all  the  gossips  from  Richmond,  to  "  tell 
the  truth  "  if  she  "  has  used  her  ill."  "  Every  servant 
shall  be  on  oath."  "  The  all-seeing  eye  of  God  "  knows 
"  her  innocence." 

Of  these  two  ebullitions,  it  is  impossible  not  to 
discern  in  the  first  a  fear  lest  her  own  errors  should  be 
repeated  in  her  daughter.  And  it  should  not  be  for- 
gotten that,  through  the  connivance  of  Haslewood, 
Nelson's  solicitor,  Horatia  to  the  last  refused  to  believe 
that  Lady  Hamilton,  whom  she  tenderly  nursed  and 
comforted  at  the  close,  was  her  real  mother.  Some 
such  denials  of  Emma's  motherhood  may  have  caused 
these  outbursts,  proportioned  in  their  violence  to  the 
intense  and  unceasing  love  that  Emma  fostered  for 
Nelson's  child,  on  her  real  relationship  to  whom  she 
here — and  here  only  within  four  walls — laid  such  ve- 
hement stress. 

She  had  been  compelled  to  part  with  Horatia's 
christening-cup,  Nelson's  own  gift,  to  a  Bond  Street 
silversmith.  Sir  Harris  Nicolas  declared  that  he  had 
seen  a  statement  in  her  handwriting  to  the  effect  that 
"  Horatia's  mother  "  was  "  too  great  a  lady  to  be  men- 


462  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

tioned."  It  has  been  assumed  that  his  ambiguous 
phrase  pointed  to  the  Queen  of  Naples,  who  so  late  as 
1808  was  in  friendly  correspondence  with  Emma. 
This,  however,  remains  uncertain.  Nelson's  own  ac- 
tion had  constrained  her  to  envelop  their  joint  offspring 
in  mystery,  for  Horatia's  benefit  as  well  as  their  own. 
It  is  just  as  probable  that  the  words  "  too  great  a 
lady  "  were  used  of  herself,  for  the  same  words  are 
used  of  her  by  Mrs.  Bolton  in  1809. 

Things  went  rapidly  from  bad  to  worse.  The 
smaller  fry  of  her  creditors  were  emboldened  by  the 
complete  neglect  of  her  last  "  memorials "  into  re- 
newed action.  At  the  instance  of  an  exorbitant  coach- 
builder,  with  a  long  bill  in  his  hands,  she  was  re- 
arrested,  and  in  Horatia's  company  she  found  herself, 
towards  the  end  of  July,  1813,  for  the  second  time  in 
the  bare  lodgings  at  Temple  Place.  All  her  remaining 
effects  in  Bond  Street  were  sold.  The  articles  offered 
were  by  no  means  luxurious,  and  included  the  rem- 
nants of  Hamilton's  library;  many  of  them  were 
bought  by  the  silversmith,  whom  she  still  owed,  and 
by  Alderman  Smith,  her  most  generous  benefactor. 
The  city  remained  her  champion. 

She  could  still  see  her  friends,  Coxe  and  George 
Matcham  among  them,  and  she  was  permitted,  such 
was  her  miserable  health,  to  drive  out  on  occasion. 
But  the  game,  spiritedly  contested  to  the  last,  was  now 
up.  Mrs.  Bolton's  death  in  the  preceding  July  added 
one  more  to  the  many  fatalities  that  thronged  around 
her.  The  Matchams,  themselves  poor,  were  unweary- 
ing in  their  solicitude,  and  three  years  earlier  a  small 
windfall  had  enabled  them  to  contribute  £100  to  her 
dire  necessities.  Alderman  Smith  came  for  the  sec- 
ond time  to  the  rescue,  and  once  more  stood  her  bail. 

But  before  even  this  alleviation  was  vouchsafed,  and 
while  she  had  been  for  three  months  confined  to  her 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  463; 

bed,  a  crowning  trouble  beset  her.  Through  the  per- 
fidy of  some  dependant l  Nelson's  most  private  letters 
to  her  had  been  abstracted  some  years  before,  and  were 
now  published  to  the  world.  This  is  the  invaluable 
correspondence  on  which  these  pages  have  so  fre- 
quently drawn.  It  was  not  their  revelation  of  the 
"  Thomson  "  letters  that  prejudiced  her :  her  enemies 
were  always  willing  to  insinuate  even  that  she  had 
foisted  Horatia  on  Nelson.  It  was  the  revelation  of 
the  Prince  of  Wales  episode  of  1801,  that  scandalised 
the  big  world,  and  destroyed  the  last  shred  of  hope 
for  any  future  "  memorials."  It  was  insinuated  that 
she  herself  had  published  the  volume.  "  Weather 
this  person,"  she  told  Mr.  Perry,  "  has  made  use  of 
any  of  these  papers,  or  weather  they  are  the  invention 
of  a  vile  mercenary  wretch,  I  know  not,  but  you  will 
oblige  me  much  by  contradicting  these  falsehoods." 
"  I  have  taken  an  oath  and  confirmed  it  at  the  altar," 
the  much-harried  Emma  was  to  write  to  the  press  in 
the  next  September,  after  she  had  crossed  the  Chan- 
nel, "  that  I  know  nothing  of  these  infamous  publica- 
tions that  are  imputed  to  me.  My  letters  were  stolen 
from  me  by  that  scoundrel  whose  family  I  had  in 
charity  so  long  supported.  I  never  once  saw  or  knew 
of  them.  That  base  man  is  capable  of  forging  any 
handwriting,  and  I  am  told  that  he  has  obtained  money 
from  the  [Prince  of  Wales]  by  his  impositions.  Sir 
William  Hamilton,  Lord  N.,  and  myself  were  too  much 
attached  to  his  [Royal  Highness]  ever  to  speak  ill  or 
think  ill  of  him.  If  I  had  the  means  I  would  prosecute 
the  wretches  who  have  thus  traduced  me."  In  still 
another  of  her  last  letters  she  is  even  more  specific  on 
this  sore  subject.  "  I  again  before  God  declare,"  she 
avers,  "  I  know  nothing  of  the  publication  of  these 
stolen  letters." 

'Harrison;  cf.  Horatia's  letter,  Cornhill,  June,  1906. 


464  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

These  statements  point  to  Emma's  truthfulness. 
All  that  she  asserts  is  her  ignorance  of  the  contents 
of  the  volume,  and  how  they  came  to  be  published. 
The  Prince  of  Wales  letters  in  this  collection  are  un- 
doubtedly genuine,  corroborated,  as  they  are,  by  many 
of  their  companions  in  the  Morrison  Manuscripts. 
The  letters  had  been  purloined  by  a  rascal,  and  their 
publication  blasted  her  last  chances  with  the  Prince 
whom  in  her  will  she  had  begged  to  protect  Horatia 
after  she  was  gone,  while  it  also  disclosed  for  the  first 
time  her  dishonour  of  her  husband. 

Her  sin  had  found  her  out;  but  her  sin  had  been 
born  of  real  devotion,  and  surely  it  should  not  harden 
us  against  her  lovableness,  or  alienate  us  from  charity 
towards  the  weight  of  temptation,  and  from  pity  for 
the  tragedy  of  her  lot. 

She  had  abstained  from  reading  the  book.  If  she 
meant  to  deny  the  authenticity  of  these  letters,  then 
indisputably  she  must  be  taken  to  have  lied.  But  even 
so,  she  was  driven  to  bay  and  at  the  end  of  her  tether. 
The  perjury  would  have  been  exceptional.  It  would 
not  have  been  Plato's  "  lie  in  the  soul  " :  it  would 
have  been  a  lie  in  defence  of  the  dead  and  the  living. 

"The  lips  have  sworn:  unsworn  remains  the  soul." 


CHAPTER  XV 

FROM   DEBT   TO  DEATH 

July,  1814 — January,  1815 

SHORT  and  evil  were  the  few  days  remaining. 
"  What  shall  I  do;  God,  what  shall  I  do!  "  had 
been  her  exclamation   thirty-two  years  ago  to 
Greville.     As  she  began,  so  she  closed. 

Mrs.  Bolton's  death  in  the  late  summer  of  1813 
left  her  more  desolate  than  ever  at  Temple  Place.  The 
Matchams  resumed  their  warm  invitations;  alas!  she 
could  not  leave;  she  was  still  an  undischarged  bank- 
rupt. The  Matchams  themselves  were  breaking  up 
the  last  of  their  many  establishments.  They  all  wished 
to  join  Emma  and  Horatia,  when  possible,  in  some 
"  city,  town,  or  village  abroad."  This  proposal  prob- 
ably suggested  the  idea  of  retiring  to  Calais  when  her 
present  ordeal  in  the  stale  air  of  stuffy  Alsatia  should 
come  to  an  end. 

But  even  in  tribulation  she  had  celebrated,  as  best 
she  could,  the  "  glorious  ist  of  August."  I  have  seen 
a  letter  inviting  a  few  even  then — not  "  pinchbeck," 
she  calls  them,  "  but  true  gold  " — round  that  little  table 
in  Temple  Place,  to  drink  for  the  last  time  to  the 
hero's  memory. 

The  few  surviving  records  unite  in  proving  her 
genuine  anxiety  that  through  her  no  creditor  should 
suffer.  Though  imprudence,  as  she  confessed,  had  not 
a  little  contributed,  her  main  disasters  were  due  to  a 
crowd  of  worthless  onhangers  whom  she  had  reck- 

465 


466  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

lessly  maintained.  She  herself  had  gone  bail  "  for 
a.  person "  whom  she  thought  "  honourable."  This 
"  person  "  was  probably  one  Jewett,  a  young  friend 
of  the  Russells,  in  whom  she  had  taken  a  warm  inter- 
est. "  I  should  be  better,"  she  had  written  to  her 
"  kind,  good,  benevolent  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Russell,"  "  if 
I  could  know  that  this  unfortunate  and,  I  think,  not 
guilty  young  man  was  saved.  He  has  been  a  dupe  in 
the  hands  of  villains.  ...  I  have  never  seen  him,  for 
I  could  not  have  borne  to  have  seen  him  and  his 
amiable  wife  and  children  suffer  as  they  must."  She 
employs  the  same  phrase — "  dupe  of  villains  " — about 
herself  in  a  long  epistle  of  this  very  date  to  Rose. 

All  her  property  was  surrendered;  with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  few  sacred  relics,  everything  unseized  had 
been  sold,  even  Nelson's  sword  of  honour.  Her  just 
creditors  lost  not  a  penny.  The  sole  extortioners  she 
would  not  benefit  were  those  annuitant  Shylocks  who 
had  preyed  upon  her  utmost  need,  and  who  had  well 
secured  themselves  by  insuring  her  life  in  the  Pelican 
Insurance  Company. 

James  Perry  and  Alderman  Smith  exerted  them- 
selves to  the  utmost  on  her  behalf.  A  small  further 
sum  was  collected  for  her  in  the  city,  and  by  the  last 
week  of  June,  1814,  her  full  discharge  was  obtained 
from  Lord  Ellenborough.  She  was  now  free — with 
less  than  fifty  pounds  in  her  pocket. 

But  she  soon  gleaned  the  fact  that  these  merciless 
"  annuitants  "  purposed  her  re-arrest.  Without  dis- 
honour, she  prepared  for  exodus  to  France. 

It  was  a  flight  requiring  management  and  secrecy  to 
elude  the  new  writs  about  to  be  issued :  it  was  her  last 
thrill.  How  different  from  that  memorable  flight  to 
Palermo  sixteen  years  earlier,  which  had  earned  the 
admiration  of  Nelson,  the  gratitude  of  a  court,  and  the 
praise  of  Britain! 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  467 

About  the  last  day  of  June  she  and  Horatia,  unat- 
tended, embarked  at  the  Tower.  The  stormy  passage 
thence  to  Calais  took  three  days.  Her  single  thought 
was  for  Horatia's  future,  but  she  still  buoyed  herself 
up  by  believing  that  an  ungrateful  ministry  would  at 
length  provide  for  her  daughter.  Sir  William  Scott, 
she  wrote,  assured  her  that  there  were  "  some  hopes  " 
for  her  "  irresistible  claims."  She  fancied,  more- 
over, that  she  had  some  disposing  power  over  the  ac- 
cumulations of  arrears  on  her  income  under  her  hus- 
band's will,  so  long  withheld  and  intercepted  by  greedy 
annuitants.  "If  I  was  to  die/'  she  told  Greville's 
brother  and  executor,  imploring  him  at  the  same  time 
for  £100  on  account,  "  I  should  have  left  that  money 
away,  for  the  annuitants  have  no  right  to  have  it, 
nor  can  they  claim  it,  for  I  was  most  dreadfully  im- 
posed upon  by  my  good  nature.  .  .  .  When  I  came 
away,  I  came  with  honour,  as  Mr.  Alderman  Smith 
can  inform  you,  but  mine  own  innocence  keeps  me  up, 
and  I  despise  all  false  accusations  and  aspersions.  I 
have  given  up  everything  to  pay  just  debts,  but  [for] 
annuitants,  never  will." 

She  at  first  lodged  at  Dessein's  famous  hotel — the 
inn  where  Sterne  (of  whom  Romney,  his  first  por- 
trayer's  pupil,  must  have  often  told  her)  started  on  his 
Sentimental  Journey,  by  the  confession  over  a  bottle 
of  Burgundy  that  there  was  "  mildness  in  the  Bour- 
bon blood  " ;  and  where  the  "  Englishman  who  did  not 
travel  to  see  Englishmen  "  first  inspected,  in  his  host's 
company,  the  ramshackle  desobligeante  which  was  to 
be  the  vehicle  of  his  whimsies. 

Dessein's,  however,  was  expensive  as  well  as  senti- 
mental. It  was  not  long  before  she  inhabited  the 
smaller  "  Quillac's  "  and  looked  out  for  a  still  humbler 
abode.  Her  "  Old  Dame  Francis  "  was  soon  to  join 
her  as  housekeeper. 


468  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

She  thus  describes  their  manner  of  life  to  George 
Rose : — 

".  .  .  Near  me  is  an  English  lady,  who  has  resided 
here  for  twenty-five  years,  who  has  a  day-school,  but 
not  for  eating  or  sleeping.  At  eight  in  the  morning  I 
take  Horatia,  fetch  her  at  one;  at  three  we  dine;  she 
goes  out  till  five,  and  then  in  the  evening  we  walk. 
She  learns  everything — piano,  harp,  languages  gram- 
matically. She  knows  French  and  Italian  well,  but 
she  will  still  improve.  Not  any  girls,  but  those  of 
the  best  families  go  there.  Last  evening  we  walked 
two  miles  to  a  jete  champetre  pour  les  bourgeois. 
Everybody  is  pleased  with  Horatia.  The  General  and 
his  good  old  wife  are  very  good  to  us;  but  our  little 
world  of  happiness  is  ourselves.  If,  my  dear  Sir, 
Lord  Sidmouth  would  do  something  for  dear  Horatia, 
so  that  I  can  be  enabled  to  give  her  an  education,  and 
also  for  her  dress,  it  would  ease  me,  and  make  me 
very  happy.  Surely  he  owes  this  to  Nelson.  For 
God's  sake,  do  try  for  me,  for  you  do  not  know  how 
limited  I  am.  ...  I  have  been  the  victim  of  artful, 
mercenary  wretches." 

Dis  aliter  visum;  it  was  not  to  be.  Nothing  but  the 
pittance  of  Horatia's  settlement  remained.  Rose  be- 
stirred himself,  but  Lord  Sidmouth  continued  imper- 
vious to  the  importunate  widow,  herself  slowly  re- 
covering from  the  jaundice. 

When  "  Dame  Francis  "  arrived,  they  tenanted  a 
farmhouse  two  miles  distant  in  the  Commune  of  St. 
Pierre — "  Common  of  St.  Peter's,"  as  Lady  Hamilton 
writes  it — and  from  this  farmhouse,  not  long  after- 
wards, they  again  removed  to  a  neighbouring  one.  It 

1  Cf .  Rose's  Diaries,  vol.  i.  p.  272 ;  and  cf .  Morrison  MS.  1055. 
"  Horatia  is  improving  in  person  and  education  every  day.  She 
speaks  French  like  a  French  girl,  Italian,  German,  English,"  etc. 
— September  21. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  469 

belonged  to  two  ladies  who  had  lost  a  large  sum  by 
the  refusal  of  their  sons  to  join  Napoleon's  invading 
army.  Its  rooms  were  large,  its  garden  extensive. 
She  could  at  length  take  exercise  in  a  pony-cart.  She 
and  Horatia  were  regular  in  church  attendance:  the 
French  prayers  were  like  their  own.  Provisions  were 
cheap:  turkeys  two  shillings,  partridges  fivepence  the 
brace ;  Bordeaux  wine  from  five  to  fifteen  pence.  Oc- 
casionally a  stray  visitor  passed  their  way.  Lord  Cath- 
cart,  Sir  William's  old  friend  and  relative,  had  visited 
them,  and  spied  out  the  nakedness  of  the  land.  It  was 
well  known  at  Calais  that  the  celebrated  Lady  Hamil- 
ton was  in  retreat :  a  real  live  "  milord  "  must  have  flut- 
tered the  farmhouse  dovecote.  For  a  time  there  was 
a  brief  spell  of  cheerful  tranquillity,  but  the  gleam 
was  transient.  It  was  only  a  reprieve  before  the  final 
summons.  "  If  my  dear  Horatia  were  provided  for," 
she  wrote  to  Sir  William  Scott,  "  I  should  dye  happy, 
and  if  I  could  only  now  be  enabled  to  make  her  more 
comfortable,  and  finish  her  education,  ah  God,  how  I 
would  bless  them  that  enabled  me  to  do  it !  "  She  was 
teaching  her  German  and  Spanish;  music,  French, 
Italian,  and  English  she  "  already  knew."  Emma 
"  had  seen  enough  of  grandeur  not  to  regret  it " ; 
"  comfort,  and  what  would  make  Horatia  and  myself 
live  like  gentlewomen,  would  be  all  I  wish,  and  to  live 
to  see  her  well  settled  in  the  world."  It  was  of  no 
avail  that  her  illness  was  leaving  her.  "  My  Broken 
Heart  does  not  leave  me."  "  Without  a  pound  in  " 
her  "pocket,"  what  could  she  do? — "On  the  2ist  of 
October,  fatal  day,  I  shall  have  some.  I  wrote  to 
Davison  to  ask  the  Earl  to  let  me  have  my  Bronte 
pension  quarterly  instead  of  half-yearly,  and  the  Earl 
refused,  saying  that  he  was  too  poor.  .  .  .  Think, 
then,  of  the  situation  of  Nelson's  child,  and  Lady  Ham- 
ilton, who  so  much  contributed  to  the  Battle  of  the 


470  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

Nile,  paid  often  and  often  out  of  my  own  pocket  at 
Naples  .  .  .  and  also  at  Palermo  for  corn  to  save 
Malta.  Indeed,  I  have  been  ill  used.  Lord  Sidmouth 
is  a  good  man,  and  Lord  Liverpool  is  also  an  upright 
Minister.  Pray,  and  if  ever  Sir  William  Hamilton's 
and  Lord  Nelson's  services  were  deserving,  ask  them 
to  aid  me.  Think  what  I  must  feel  who  was  used  to 
give  God  only  knows  [how  much],  and  now  to  ask!  "  l 
Such  was  the  plight  of  one  who  had  gladly  lavished 
care  and  money  on  the  son  and  daughter  of  Earl  Nel- 
son. That  new-made  Earl,  who  had  canvassed  her 
favour,  and  called  her  his  "  best  friend,"  was  now 
calmly  leaving  her  to  perish,  and  his  great  brother's 
daughter  to  share  her  carking  penury  and  privation. 

Lawyers'  letters  molested  even  the  seclusion  of  St. 
Pierre.  The  English  papers  published  calumnies 
which  she  was  forced  to  contradict.  Their  little  fund 
was  fast  dwindling,  and  as  late  autumn  set  in  they  were 
forced  to  transfer  their  scanty  effects  to  a  meagre 
lodging  in  the  town  itself. 

In  the  Rue  Franchise — No.  in — and  even  there  in 
its  worst  apartments,  looking  due  north,  the  distressed 
fugitives  found  themselves  in  the  depth  of  a  hard 
winter. 

They  were  not  in  absolute  want,  but,  had  their  sus- 
pense been  protracted,  they  must  ere  long  have  been  so. 
At  the  beginning  of  December  the  "  annuitants'  "  at- 
torneys were  in  close  correspondence  with  the  Honour- 
able Colonel  Sir  R.  Fulke  Greville.  Proceedings,  in- 
deed, were  being  instigated  in  Chancery,  which  were 
only  stopped  by  Lady  Hamilton's  unexpected  demise. 
An  embargo  was  laid  on  every  penny  of  Emma's  in- 
come. Even  Horatia's  pittance  was  not  paid  in  ad- 
vance, till  she  herself  begged  for  a  trifle  on  account 
from  her  uncle,  Earl  Nelson. 

'Lady  Hamilton  to  Sir  William  Scott— September  12,  1814. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  471 

.  Under  the  strain  of  uncertainty,  Emma,  worried 
out  of  her  wits,  and  drawn  more  closely  than  ever  to 
the  daughter  who  absorbed  her  fears,  her  sorrow,  and 
her  affection,  at  length  collapsed.  The  strong  and 
buoyant  spirits,  which  had  brought  her  through  so 
many  crises,  including  Horatia's  own  birth,  and  the 
coil  of  its  consequences,  failed  any  longer  to  support 
her.  A  dropsical  complaint,  complicated  by  a  chill, 
fastened  upon  her  chest.  By  New  Year's  Day,  1815, 
her  state  of  pocket,  as  well  as  of  health,  had  become 
critical.  Some  ten  pounds,  in  English  money,  her 
wearing  apparel,  and  a  few  pawn  tickets  for  pledged 
pieces  of  plate,  were  the  sole  means  of  subsistence  un- 
til Horatia's  next  quarter's  allowance  should  fall  due. 
In  1811  the  Matchams  had  sent  all  they  could  spare; 
they  may  have  done  so  again.  If  the  mother,  denuded 
of  all,  asked  for  anything,  it  was  for  Horatia  that  she 
pleaded.  At  her  debut,  Greville  had  noticed  that  she 
would  starve  rather  than  beg :  it  proved  so  now.  Only 
seven  years  ago  she  had  implored  the  Duke  not  to 
let  their  "  enemies  trample  upon  them."  Those  ene- 
mies had  trampled  on  them  indeed.  A  new  creditor 
was  knocking  at  her  door,  the  last  creditor — Death. 

One  can  picture  that  deserted  death-scene  in  the 
Calais  garret,  where  the  wan  woman,  round  whom  so 
much  brilliance  had  hovered,  lay  poverty-stricken  and 
alone.  Where  now  were  the  tribes  of  flatterers,  of 
importuners  for  promotion,  or  even  the  crowd  of  true 
and  genial  hearts?  Her  still  lingering  beauty  had 
formed  an  element  of  her  age,  but  now  only  the  prim- 
itive elements  of  ebbing  life  remained  intact — the 
mother  and  her  child.  By  her  bedside  stood  a  crucifix 
— for  she  had  openly  professed  her  faith.  Over  her 
bed  hung,  doubtless,  the  small  portraits  of  Nelson 
and  of  her  mother — remnants  from  the  wreck.  Nel- 
son was  no  longer  loathed  at  Calais ;  a  Bourbon  sat  on 


472  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

the  throne,  and  not  even  wounded  pride  angered  the 
French  against  the  man  who  had  delivered  the  sister — 
now  dead  herself — of  Marie  Antoinette.  Perhaps 
Emma  is  trying  to  dictate  a  last  piteous  entreaty  to  the 
hard-hearted  Earl,  and  sad  Horatia  writing  it  at  the 
bare  table  by  the  attic  casement.  Perhaps,  while  she 
gasps  for  breath,  and  calls  to  mind  the  child  within 
her  arms,  she  strives  but  fails  to  utter  all  the  weight 
upon  her  heart.  Horatia  sobs,  and  kisses  again,  may 
be,  and  again  that  "  guardian  "  whom  now  she  loves 
and  trusts  with  a  daughter's  heart.  Sorrow  unites 
them  closely;  here  "  they  and  sorrow  sit." 

Of  her  many  tragic  "  Attitudes  "  (had  Constance 
ever  been  one?)  the  tragedy  of  this  last  eclipses  all. 
She,  whose  loveliness  had  dazzled  Europe,  whose 
voice  and  gestures  had  charmed  all  Italy,  and  had  spell- 
bound princes  alike  and  peasants;  whose  fame,  what- 
ever might  be  muttered,  was  destined  to  re-echo  long 
after  life's  broken  cadence  had  died  upon  the  air;  she 
whose  lightest  word  had  been  cherished — she  now  lay 
dying  here.  Nelson,  her  mother,  her  child,  these  are 
still  her  company  and  comfort,  as  memories  float  be- 
fore her  fading  eyes.  Ah !  will  she  find  the  first  again, 
and  must  she  lose,  the  last  ? 

A  pang,  a  spasm,  a  cry.  The  priest  is  fetched  in 
haste.  She  still  has  strength  to  be  absolved,  to  re- 
ceive extreme  unction  from  a  stranger's  hands.  Weep- 
ing Horatia  and  old  "  Dame  Francis  "  re-enter  as,  in 
that  awful  moment,  shrived,  let  us  hope,  and  recon- 
ciled, she  clings,  and  rests  in  their  embrace. 

It  had  been  her  wish  to  lie  beside  her  mother  in  the 
Paddington  church.  This,  too,  was  thwarted.  On  the 
next  Friday  she  was  buried.  The  hearse  was  fol- 
lowed by  the  many  naval  officers  then  at  Calais  to  the 
cheerless  cemetery,  before  many  years  converted  into 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  473 

a  timber-yard.  Had  she  died  a  Protestant — such  was 
the  revival  of  Catholicism  with  monarchy  in  France — 
intolerance  would  have  refused  a  service :  only  a  few 
months  earlier,  a  blameless  and  charming  actress  had 
been  pitched  at  Paris  into  an  unconsecrated  grave. 
It  was  these  circumstances  that  engendered  the  fables, 
soon  circulated  in  England,  of  Emma's  burial  in  a 
deal  box  covered  by  a  tattered  petticoat. 

Earl  Nelson  and  the  Mr.  Henry  Cadogan,  who  has 
been  mentioned  earlier,  came  over  before  the  begin- 
ning of  February — the  former  to  bring  Horatia  back, 
the  latter  to  pay,  through  Alderman  Smith's  large- 
heartedness,  the  last  of  the  many  debts  owing  on  the 
score  of  Lady  Hamilton.  None  of  them  were  de- 
frayed by  the  Earl,  who  had  never  given  his  niece  so 
much  as  "  a  frock  or  a  sixpence."  It  was  soon  known 
that  the  "  celebrated  Emma  "  had  passed  away.  Polite 
letters  were  exchanged  between  Colonel  Greville  and 
the  "  Prefect  of  the  Department  of  Calais  "  as  to  the 
actual  facts,  and  Greville's  executor  was  much  relieved 
to  feel  that  Emma's  departure  had  spared  him  the 
bother  of  a  long  lawsuit. 

Horatia  owed  nothing  to  her  uncle  Nelson's  care: 
she  stayed  with  the  Matchams  until  her  marriage,  in 
1822,  to  the  Reverend  Philip  Ward  of  Tenterden.  She 
became  the  mother  of  many  children,  and  died,  an 
octogenarian,  in  1881. 

The  research  of  these  pages  has  tried  to  illumine 
Lady  Hamilton's  misdeeds  as  well  as  her  good  qualities, 
to  interpret  the  problems  and  contrasts  of  a  mixed 
character  and  a  mixed  career.  It  has  tracked  the  many 
phases  and  vicissitudes  both  of  circumstance  and  calibre 
that  she  underwent.  We  have  seen  her  as  a  girl, 
friendless  and  forsaken,  only  to  be  rescued  and  trained 
by  a  selfish  pedant,  who  collected  her  as  he  collected 


474  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

his  indifferent  pictures  and  metallic  minerals.  We 
have  seen  her  handed  on  to  the  amiable  voluptuary 
whose  torpor  she  bestirred,  and  for  whose  classical 
taste  she  embodied  the  beautiful  ideal.  We  have  seen 
her  swaying  a  Queen,  influencing  statesmen  and  even 
a  dynasty,  exalted  by  marriage  to  a  platform  which 
enabled  her  to  save,  more  than  once,  a  situation  critical 
alike  for  her  country,  for  Naples,  and  for  Europe. 
We  have  seen  her  rising  not  only  to,  but  above,  the 
occasions  which  her  highest  fortunes  enabled.  We 
have  followed  her  conspicuous  courage,  from  its  germs 
in  battling  with  mean  disaster,  to  a  development  which 
attracted  and  enthralled  the  most  valiant  captain  of 
his  age.  We  have  marked  how  her  resource  also  en- 
hanced even  his  resourcefulness.  We  have  watched 
her  swept  into  a  vortex  of  passionate  love  for  the  hero 
who  transcended  her  dramatic  dreams,  and  sacrificing 
all,  even  her  native  truthfulness,  for  the  real  and  un- 
shaken love  of  their  lives.  We  have  shown  that  she 
cannot  be  held  to  have  detained  him  from  his  public 
duty  so  long  as  history  is  unable  to  point  to  a  single 
exploit  unachieved.  And  eventually,  we  have  found 
that  the  infinite  expressiveness  which  throughout  ren- 
dered her  a  muse  both  to  men  of  reverie  and  of  action, 
rendered  herself  a  blank,  when  the  personalities  she 
prompted  were  withdrawn  and  could  no  more  inspire 
her  as  she  had  inspired  them.  We  have  viewed  her 
marvellous  rise,  and  we  have  traced  her  melancholy 
decline,  from  the  moment  of  the  prelude  to  Horatia's 
birth  to  the  years  which  involved  its  far-reaching  and 
inevitable  sequels.  We  have  found,  despite  all  the  re- 
sulting stains  which  soiled  a  frank  and  fervid  but  un- 
schooled and  unbridled  nature,  that  she  never  lost"  a 
capacity  for  devotion,  and  even  self-abandonment; 
while  her  kindness  and  bounty  remained  as  reckless 
and  extravagant  as  the  wil fulness  of  her  moods  and 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  475 

the  exuberance  of  her  enthusiasm.  We  have  found 
her  headstrong  successively,  and  resolute,  bold  and 
brazen,  capricious  and  loyal,  vain-glorious,  but  vainer 
for  the  glory  of  those  she  loved;  strenuous  yet  inert, 
eminently  domestic  yet  waywardly  pleasure-loving; 
serviceable  yet  alluring,  at  once  Vesta  and  Hebe.  We 
have  tracked  her,  as  catastrophe  lowered,  tenaciously 
beating  the  air,  and  ever  sanguine  that  she  could  turn 
stones — even  the  stones  flung  at  her — to  gold.  We 
have  tracked  also  the  cruelty  and  shabbiness  of  those 
that  were  first  and  foremost  in  throwing  those  stones, 
whose  propriety  was  prudence,  and  whose  virtue  was 
self-interest.  We  have  marked  how  long  this  woman 
of  Samaria's  way  fare  was  beset  by  bad  Samaritans. 
We  have  felt  the  falsities  to  which  they  bowed  as 
falser  than  the  genuine  idolatry  which  held  her  from  a 
nobler  worship,  and  from  an  air  purer  than  most  of 
her  surrounders  ever  breathed.  It  was  in  Nelson's 
erring  unselfishness  that  her  salvation  and  her  damna- 
tion met.  And  in  her  semi-consecration  of  true 
motherhood,  springing  at  first  from  wild-animal  de- 
votion to  her  first  child,  we  can  discern  the  refine- 
ment of  instinct  which  at  length  led  the  born  pagan 
within  the  pale  of  reverence.  Astray  as  a  girl,  she 
had  found  refuge  in  her  own  devotion,  with  which  she 
invested  Greville's  patronage.  An  outcast  at  the  close, 
she  turned  for  shelter  to  a  worthier  home.  And 
above  all,  implanted  in  her  from  the  first,  and  in- 
eradicable, her  unwavering  fondness  for  her  mother 
has  half-erased  her  darkest  blot,  and  made  her  more 
beautiful  than  her  beauty.  May  we  not  say,  at  the 
last,  that  because  she  loved  much,  much  shall  be  for- 
given her :  quid  multum  amavit. 

The  site  of  her  grave  has  vanished,  and  with  it  the 
two  poor  monuments  rumoured  to  have  marked  the 
spot;  the  first  (if  Mrs.  Hunter  be  here  believed)  of 


476  EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON 

wood,  "  like  a  battledore,  handle  downwards " ;  the 
second,  a  headstone,  which  a  Guide  to  Calais  mentions 
in  1833.1  Its  Latin  inscription  was  then  partially  de- 
cipherable : — 

"...  Quae 

.   .    .  Calesiae 
Via  in  Gallica  vocata 
Et  in  domo  c.vi.  obiit 
Die  xv.  Mensis  Januarii.    A.D.    MDCCCXV. 
suae  LI."  2 


It  was  perhaps  erected  by  some  officer  of  that  navy 
which,  long  after  she  had  gone,  always  remembered 
her  unflagging  zeal  and  kindness  with  gratitude. 

Her  best  epitaph  may  be  found  in  the  touching  lines 
indited  by  the  literary  doctor  Beattie  (not  Nelson's  Sir 
William  Beatty),  after  visiting  her  grave  on  his  re- 
turn from  attending  William  IV.  and  his  wife  in  Ger- 
many. They  were  published  in  1831,  and  have  been 
quoted  by  Pettigrew. 

"  And  here  is  one — a  nameless  grave — the  grass 
Waves  dank  and  dismal  o'er  its  crumbling  mass 
Of  mortal  elements — the  wintry  sedge 
Weeps  drooping  o'er  the  rampart's  watery  edge; 
The  rustling  reed — the  darkly  rippling  wave — 
Announce  the  tenant  of  that  lowly  grave. 

.    .    .  Levelled  with  the  soil, 
The  wasting  worm  hath  revelled  in  its  spoil — 
The  spoil  of  beauty !     This,  the  poor  remains 
Of  one  who,  living,  could  command  the  strains 
Of  flattery's  harp  and  pen.    Whose  incense,  flung 
From  venal  breath  upon  her  altar,  hung, 
A  halo ;  while  in  loveliness  supreme 
She  moved  in  brightness,  like  th'  embodied  dream 

1  Pettigrew,   vol.   ii.   p.  636.     The   "  battledore "   bore  the  in- 
scription, "  Emma  Hamilton,  England's  friend." 
1 i.  e.    In  the  fifty-first  year  of  her  age. 


EMMA,  LADY  HAMILTON  477 

Of  some  rapt  minstrel's  warm  imaginings, 
The  more  than  form  and  face  of  earthly  things. 

Few  bend  them  at  thy  bier,  unhappy  one ! 
All  know  thy  shame,  thy  mental  sufferings,  none. 
All  know  thy  frailties — all  thou  wast  and  art! 
But  thine  were  faults  of  circumstance,  not  heart. 
Thy  soul  was  formed  to  bless  and  to  be  bless'd 
With  that  immortal  boon — a  guiltless  breast, 
And  be  what  others  seem — had  bounteous  Heaven 
Less  beauty  lent,  or  stronger  virtue  given ! 
The  frugal  matron  of  some  lowlier  hearth, 
Thou  hadst  not  known  the  splendid  woes  of  earth: 
Dispensing  happiness,  and  happy — there 
Thou  hadst  not  known  the  curse  of  being  fair! 
But  like  yon  lonely  vesper  star,  thy  light — 
Thy  love — had  been  as  pure  as  it  was  bright. 
I've  met  thy  pictured  bust  in  many  lands, 
I've  seen  the  stranger  pause  with  lifted  hands 
In  deep,  mute  admiration,  while  his  eye 
Dwelt  sparkling  on  thy  peerless  symmetry. 
I've  seen  the  poet's — painter's — sculptor's  gaze 
Speak,  with  rapt  glance,  their  eloquence  of  praise. 
I've  seen  thee  as  a  gem  in  royal  halls 
Stoop,  like  presiding  angel  from  the  walls, 
And  only  less  than  worshipp'd !     Yet  'tis  come 
To  this !    When  all  but  slander's  voice  is  dumb, 
And  they  who  gazed  upon  thy  living  face, 
Can  hardly  find  thy  mortal  resting-place." 


THE  END 


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